Blogs are like buses.

Just to warn you, I have 3 blogs buzzing around my head at the moment, so after another long pause it would seem you will be getting lots again.

Last night I couldn't sleep, so I decided to compose, in my head, a series of letters to the culprit. Unfortunately, the 'in my head' part didn't last very long so I wrote them down. And now you get to read my passive aggression.

Dear Resident Tutor,
Next time you plan on getting lots of sleep, I will throw a very loud party. As least, I would, but I'm not that much of a dick.

Dear Resident Tutor,
I would come and yell at you, but you're a policeman. And you're Scottish.

Dear Resident Tutor,
I can only assume you and your friends have invented a game of who can rattle hangers in a wardrobe the loudest. It sounds like fun. Oh wait. That's not fun I can hear.

Dear Resident Tutor,
You're supposed to intervene when we're making too much noise, I wish there was someone who was supposed to come and kick your ass.

Dear Resident Tutor,
I wish there was some point before the end of term you would have exams. Then I could make as much noise as possible when you're trying to sleep. I could see how well you do then.

Dear Resident Tutor,
If you're going to keep me up, you could at least give me decent music to listen to. Having said that, I too am holding out for a hero.

Dear Resident Tutor,
I hate you.


Back in reality, I found this awesome quote from someone I've never heard of:
"If you didn't know what sleep was, and you had only seen it in a science fiction movie, you would think it was weird and tell all your friends about the movie you'd seen.

They had these people, you know? And they would walk around all day and be OK? And then, once a day, usually after dark, they would lie down on these special platforms and become unconscious. They would stop functioning almost completely, except deep in their minds they would have adventures and experiences that were completely impossible in real life. As they lay there, completely vulnerable to their enemies, their only movements were to occasionally shift from one position to another; or, if one of the 'mind adventures' got too real, they would sit up and scream and be glad they weren't unconscious anymore. Then they would drink a lot of coffee.'

So, next time you see someone sleeping, make believe you're in a science fiction movie. And whisper, 'The creature is regenerating itself.'"
George Carlin