No rest for the weary...

After suffering through weeks of soul-sucking heat, I was elated when the temperature dropped below 85 degrees last weekend. I was so elated, in fact, that I (perhaps a bit prematurely) shut off the AC and opened up all the windows in my house. It worked out just fine until Mo and I decided to call it a night.

Shortly before midnight: We're both exhausted, so we crawl into bed. Basking in the fresh air from the open windows and the light breeze provided by our trusy ceiling fan, we drift off to sleep.

2am: An ambulance drives by our house, sirens blaring (not a rare occurrence, considering the fact that we live on a main thoroughfare in Columbia Heights). I awake, startled and disoriented, look at the clock, grumble, and then roll over and fall back asleep.

Sometime between 4am and 5am: Some sort of large truck (probably a dump truck from a nearby construction site) speeds by with such velocity that it sets off every goddamn car alarm on the street. (Side note: Metro buses do this with startling frequency as well, although they generally don't do it at such an ungodly hour. Slow the eff down! Jeezus!) Needless to say, I awake once again, ever so slightly more irritated and sweary than I was the previous time. Back to sleep. Only a few more hours until I have to get up for work!

6am: A small child is screaming bloody murder in close proximity to my abode. Shortly thereafter, said child's mother screams at equal volume for her offspring to shut the hell up. I contemplate angrily reiterating her instructions to both screaming parties, but I do not wish to awaken my roommate, who is sleeping blissfully on the side of the house not facing the street. More grumbling and swearing, followed by a brief and fitful sleep until I drag my ass out of bed at 7:15.

Thank gawd for free coffee at work.