I went to bed really late last night, figuring I could get up at the usual 11:30, grab breakfast, or lunch or whatever the hell meal that would be, and go to class.
Early this morning I was dead asleep, an earthquake couldn't have awakened me. But I suddenly went into this odd dream. You know those dreams when everything is black, you don't see anything, but you just hear voices? Yeah, one of those. Anybody that hits mushrooms knows what I'm talking about. Anyway, it was a really bizarre dream, because all the voices were in Spanish, which is odd because unless my subconscious retained it all, I don't remember anything from the four years of Spanish I took in Middle and High School.
Then I heard banging, like an odd knocking sound, a lot like someone was knocking on the door. I sort of woke up, because I remember staring at the wall. The dream continued though, I kept hearing the voices...wondering what the hell was going on. Keep in mind that we're on the seventh floor up here, not like any voices from down below would carry without a megaphone, although it would not surprise me in the least if some asshole was using one in the quad that early in the morning. I looked at the clock: seven AM. At that point I was wide awake, and I was wondering what in the blue fuck was going on. I wandered over to the window in my boxers, and opened the blinds.
I nearly screamed. Three Mexicans with squeegees were staring straight at me. Now that I think about it, I vaguely recall a notice being taped to the door that said something about window washing. But God dammit, when you open the blinds to you seventh-floor window, that is the last thing you'd expect to see. It was really agitating that they were talking that loudly so early in the morning.
I'm laughing my ass off as I'm writing this, but this morning I got oh so close to having a stroke. Damn Mexicans. At least my windows are squeaky clean, so my binoculars will pick up the chicks in the room across the quad.
Current Mood: Amused
Listening To: "Wonderwall" by Oasis
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