BONGOS!
Last night my good buddy (insert sarcasm) upstairs, Mr. Brett Downing, of WPI as well, was playing his MOTHER FUCKING BONGOS again. At 3am. Why?! I'm sorry, but couldn't you have played earlier, or, wait till the morning and play then? You have a friggin three-day weekend ahead of you, with plenty of time for your hippie-slacker beatnick bongo playing. So I stand on my desk and bang on my ceiling and yell as loudly as I can (without waking my own roommates up in the process, because then that would make me just as bad as him) for about 10 min, intermittantly, before he stopped.
Well, at this point, it's 3:30, and I can't fall back asleep. So, I spend the next two hours watching seinfeld episodes and going through mail and paperwork that I needed to get caught up on anyways. I then went to clinton, went for a 30min bike ride, gave myself a hair cut, ate breakfast, and did more laundry. And still made it to work (yes, I'm working on the saturday of Memorial Day weekend) by 9:30. Ugh. Worst morning ever. Well, not ever, but in a long time.