. . . at around 6:00 AM, the kids who live downstairs woke me up with loud rambunctious play. Again.
They carried on for around thirty minutes, it seemed, and when my alarm went off at 7:15, even though I promised myself I wouldn't use the button that has ruined our country, each snooze button interval of sleep felt so very good because it was that exact time of REM sleep that those little kids keep denying me.
Every couple of dreams was about these kids, and in the only one I can remember - a particularly sadistic one - I was looking for DVD's to play loudly in retaliation. My selection? Well, I considered an AC/DC in concert DVD but opted for Andrew Dice Clay's "The Dice Man Cometh." Not that I actually own any Dice DVD's, or an AC/DC ones for that matter, but in the dream I thought it would be nice to blast some dirty nursery rhymes by an angry Jewish guy who thinks he's Italian. That would be really screwed up to expose my young neighbor kids to a host of four letter words just because they wake me at the worst possible time on a daily basis; that would be truly sick.
However, when the final snooze went off, the one where if I didn't heed the call, I'd surely be late for work, I left the phone vibrating on the ground when I got in the shower for it to buzz loudly for the people below over and over. Just like I had to listen to that kid sing the Batman theme song over and over and over . . .