So sleepy…Stupid people shot fireworks till 3 a.m.

foom…POP!
foom…POP!
foom…POP!

and then it would change to

POP.……crackle
POP.……crackle
POP.……crackle

for a while, then back to the foom/pop. Geez. They started late because of the rain, but all-told those assholes shot fireworks for four whole hours. Who does four hours of fireworks? How much did they spend on that? I couldn’t even watch because of the trees.

Around one I moved to the couch, where the ceiling fan muffled the sound, waking every so often, never going into a deep sleep. Then at 3:30 something(s) crawled all over my face. I shot up like a big screen girl after a nightmare, slapping my own face and neck in the dark. Something tickled my ear, so I rubbed it and found a small, firm lump in a crease, which I pulled off and threw across the room. To my credit, I did not shriek. Then I went to the bathroom and inspected my hair, neck and ears, certain I would find a billion gnat-sized baby spiders colonizing my hair, or worse, alien spiders colonizing my brain via my ear. I found nothing.

After inspecting the couch, my blanket and pillow, and the floor with a flashlight, I calmed down enough to notice the foom/pop had stopped. It took me a long time to get to sleep, what with my hair tickling my face and every itch an alien spider.

I finally did fall asleep, and that’s when I dreamed of wandering through Pamela Anderson’s house/amusement park/shopping mall searching for a bathroom. Whatever that means.