Perfect Day

So, today had all the possibility to be a really horrible day. The morons (the most polite word I can think of, although brainless, immature, selfish, ignorant gits would probably be a more accurate and culturally appropriate title) next door decided that they were going to party it up, because the weekend totally starts on Thursday. Now, I understand the idea of the weekend being a much more flexible state of mind period of time in college. I go to GWU, a place where among much of the student body the "work week", "classes", "academic progress" and "any semblence of anything anywhere close to responsibility" is at best a highly debatable phantasm that hasn't not been seen since Roosevelt (the first one!) took office, and whose existence is the debated in our hallowed halls of scholarship (that is, if they actually did go to any of our hallowed halls of scholarship), and at worse a horrible terror only to be spoke of in hushed tones, similar to how one speaks about Voldemort, or Dick Cheney.

The last president to inspire The Fear of Work in GWU students

Actually, that's not true. At GW we love to yell about how much we hate Dick Cheney. Anyway, the point is, GW has exposed me to how much of the ignorant college masses my esteemed peers behave, which is partying as much as physically possible at anytime or place, day of the week notwithstanding, until you either collapse from exhaustion or die. (To soon ?)

That said, I have never been subjected to next door neighbors who have literally become nocturnal. Their parties start at midnight, and continue until early in the morning. And I don't mean like "oh man its almost 4, we're super rad for partying this late". I mean early like, at 6:30 this morning, when the sun was rising, the morning song birds were chirping, and Edinburgh was beginning to wake up, these buffoons were still playing their music and yelling their heads off. I got absolutely zero sleep last night, as even my most pacifying Chopin preludes and Debussy concertos could not ward off their incessant noise.

To really top it off, I had a 9 o'clock lecture this morning, which was across town. And, the promised Edinburgh weather finally kicked in. Which means 50 degrees, windy, grey as slate and drizzling enough just to make you damp and miserable.  But the glorious thing is this: I am now sitting in my new favorite coffee shop (one of the 1, 748,597 within 4 feet of the University), the aptly titled "Black Medecine Coffee Company". They have a definte British Columbia vibe going on (complete with pacific northwest totem pole decor), but play only motown music inside, and the baristas all sound like the wife of William Wallace. And their coffee is amazing. The day is now amazing! I love a country where this perfect balm could be allowed to exist.