Have a little respect when you are in my house

Friends. Only when convenient. It’s not fair. It’s not plausible. It’s not right. Why is it 5:50am and why have I only achieved a few hours of sleep? Not by my choosing, and surely, no bit of insomnia. Well, maybe the insomnia of others. Wes is over tonight. I fell asleep on the living room floor while he was talking to me. Lana was in the bath. I woke a few hours later to giggling and talking emanating from her room. After about an hour of this, and I not being able to find a peaceful place to sleep, I was reduced to the linen closet. I might have been successful if I hadn’t of started at the sound of his laughter. I tried to roll over and hit my head on the wall. After wasting time sweeping the kitchen and bathroom, finishing some laundry, and trying to read more of “Darkwitch Rising” (all the while playing music maybe a little too loudly and definately inconsiderate of the neighbors who share a wall with my room, but still able to hear that laugh) I walked in and asked, “will you people ever stop talking?” I was regarded with innocently concerned faces, and the intolerable question of “Are you alright?” Now they care. Even though they knew that I was up. That I was trying to sleep. Why should I have to bring it up? Why couldn’t they just have been considerate in the first place? Ah…so now I sit in the corner of the living room, the only light emanating from the screen of my laptop. Wes muttered an apology as he stumbled into the room. I mumbled a dismisal. I know that his eyes are on me, guaging the degree of my irritation, but I can not see anything past the light of my laptop. Ah, I guess I shall stop torturing the poor lad and let him sleep without the annoying clack of my keys and the bright light illuminating my obviously unfavorable (for tonight, anyhow) face in this corner.