I had stayed up most of the night, fooling around on the computer, with games and chat and what have we. My roomie wasn't home yet, and didn't get home til 4am. Before she had come home, I had moved her madras from the old bed to her newly created elevated bed. I even put on new duvets and pillowcases, just to be nice. And it was appreciated.Â
We chatted for a while, about her evening and the events, as well as general things in her life. Listened to some music. Pretty cozy. After a while, she decided to head to bed, and I proudly showed her how I had moved things around. She was delighted. I returned to my comp, and she headed to bed. I went to bed a while afterwards, at 6am or whatever it was. First I was awoken, as I am almost fucking daily, by the doorbell. What the hell is it with people and this doorbell, I don't know. But it seems people need to get in on an almost daily basis. Usually it's a kid with ads, which I really loathe, and usually just hang up on. Sometimes it's some sort of local and free (read: useless) newspaper, that I also usually just ignore. Today, however, it was the postman. Now, this moron has his own key. Or, he's supposed to anyway. Why the hell he keeps ringing the doorbell is beyond me. When I picked up the receiver, I heard two other apartments already in conversation with the guy, so I just hung up and got back to bed.
Hours later, I awoke again, and heard a faint voice from the room next to mine. I usually don't close my doors completely shut, but of course, today I had. Anywho, I heard this voice, and it seemed like it was calling my name. I got up, slightly baffled, and staggered to the hallway. I heard my name called out again, this time clearer. I replied, and heard a shriek of joy. Turned the corner to her room, and saw the poor girl in her bed, not able to get down. The ladder she used to get up was a little too short for her to also get down again, seeing as she's also scared of heights. Also, her phone was on the floor, recharging, it's alarm going off about every 15 minutes. And she was unable to reach it.
The whole scene was pretty hillarious, and I couldn't help but chuckle loudly, as she was also laughing at the irony of being stuck in bed for hours. Apparently she had been awake for 3 hours. At least I had been friendly enough to stick her book up in her bed the night before, so she could finish that in the hours of spare time. I brought out my other ladder, and she managed to crawl down. Joked a bit about it during the day. It's funny in a slightly tragic sort of way. The custom made ladder for the bed hasn't been made yet, but will be installed in late january. Until then, she'll have to manage with a rather largish ladder in her room. But hey, it's ok. At least the bed is made, and it's pretty sweet. Job well done.
