The (Im)Probability of Getting a Good Night's Sleep in Champaign, Illinois

Waking up at 6:00 AM, two hours before my alarm clock, for the third morning in a row, I thought I'd ruminate out loud, actually rant, about the infinitely minuscule probability that one can have a decent night of sleep in Champaign, particularly on the intersection of one of the many many many insanely and logic-twisting traffic-congested streets in this small town.

So, if I am woken up by the sounds of NPR's Morning Edition at 8AM refreshed after eight hours of sleep, this means that a series of events completely out of my control did not happen the previous night:

1) No insanely obese, sexually frustrated, and mentally challenged motorcyclists revved their penis-substitutes outside of my house, particularly between 1-2AM, which for whatever reason seems to be their favorite time slot.

2) The girl who lives next to me did not spend only a part of her night at her boyfriend's (or boyfriends') house only to be dropped off at 3 AM, literally outside my window, after which she almost ALWAYS proceeds to do her laundry while talking incessantly on her cell phone. Oh yes and the laundry is in the basement so close below my bedroom that I can see the laundry machine from a hole in my floor (I am not even kidding!). So, getting a good night sleep also means that she did not turn the drier off and on either putting her clothes through many cycles or doing a year's worth of laundry in one night!

3) The neighbors upstairs did not drag their furniture in the middle of the night, vacuum, or have an argument. By the way, I can hear them sneeze not to speak of other noises, which are (unfortunately for them and fortunately for me much rarer). It also means that my neighbor did not literally stamp on the floor as he was preparing for work only to slam the door behind him as if turning his anger for having to go to work at the poor wooden door and by extension, at the disgruntled Bosnian living beneath him.

4) The neighbor in the house next to mine did not start with the construction way before sunrise nor did he rev his own motorcycle which he keeps parked in a giant mobile garage right outside of my door (which blocks my sight as I am pulling out of my driveway--thanks a lot asshole!).

5) My soft-spoken and generally nice landlord did not come at 7AM (I guess before going to work) to do some shoveling and gardening (oh I forgot the mention, both the gravel and the garden are right OUTSIDE MY BEDROOM WINDOW)!

6) Finally, it means that it is not Tuesday and the garbage truck did not pull into my driveway at 4AM incessantly beeping and taking for God knows how long to empty the giant trash container outside my window.

So as you can see, in order for me to get my eight hours of sleep in this town all these six conditions have to be met. And honestly, what are the chances of that? Slim to none, says the sleepy, cranky me.