The story of my life is: I can’t sleep. On a good day, it takes me 45 minutes to fall asleep. On a bad day, it’s a couple of hours, and even then I might not sleep through the night.
Not only can I not fall asleep, I sleep lightly, and if I wake up again, it takes just as long to fall back asleep. Lack of sleep is why I always hated sleepovers and girls’ camp, and why I am very grateful not to have roommates at present. Although a cheerful person, normally, I get very cranky very quickly when I get tired, which is something that anyone who ever plans on living with me should probably be warned of. (In my own defense, the only reason a bad night pushes me over the edge is that I don’t have enough, or any, good nights to balance it out.)
At home, I usually sleep with the bathroom fan on for the white noise. Here, I don’t have a bathroom fan (there’s just a vent). Happily, my dorm is fairly quiet. Almost the only noises I ever hear are the T.V. across the hall and my next-door neighbor, who sings. Loudly. Late at night.
To be fair, he sings very well (he’s studying music), and it has yet to bother me enough to go talk to him. Usually I just turn the cooler on, and that drowns him out enough to let me sleep. (Also, I’m in my pajamas by that time, and I don’t want to bother getting dressed to knock on his door.) The last few nights have been cold, and I won’t be able to run the cooler much longer, so I’m buying a white noise machine.
Heaven help me if I marry a man who snores.