I'm living in a triple in college and how it works is.. you can either have the top or bottom bunk or the top of a loft (a single bunk bed with your desk underneath). Ideally I wanted the bottom bunk because I toss and turn at night, coming from a king size bed back home, a lot. Unfortunately how things unwind, I turned out to be the last of both my roommates to move in. I got the top of the bunk bed. I thought to myself, "Oh well.. man up, don't bitch about it."

First night, I climb onto my bed which is quite the climb I must say, not as cake as it use to be to plop onto my giant bounce house bed back home. I lay down. I sleep on my side and look out and realize there is no fucking guard rail. great. I'm fucked. I look down from my bunk and I see a pleasant six foot drop. Day 1 sleeping situation sucked. I'm hug the wall the entire night. If you can't picture what I mean by hugging a wall, its fetal position tucked against the wall.... like a sad starving prisoner.


Two days later, my father brings me a guard rail form bed, bath, and beyond. Thanks Dad. Saved me.

What brings me to blog about my bed on Day 10 of college is I discovered something new. Aside from the six foot drop, no guard rail, and six foot climb. The ceiling is very close. This new discovery came from last night when I was happily smiling and getting tucked in for bed. My blanket is curled up at the bottom, so like most normal people in normal beds.. I kicked my blankets up to flatten the blanket. In addition to kicking my fucking blanket, I ended up kicking the ceiling. OUCH!

So picture this, my roommates are asleep.. its pitch black. You hear rustling on the top bunk getting in position to sleep and then *thunk* "FUCK!" *Whimper*

My right leg still hurts as I'm typing this right now.