So it’s about nine in the morning, and here I am awake. “Why’s that, Kevin?” You may fairly ask, “haven’t you been unreasonably happy at the prospect of getting to sleep in as late as you’d like for the past like month and a half?”

“Well yes,” I would respond. “In fact, in lieu of any other concrete plans, the notion that I was going to spend about twelve hours a day asleep was one of the only stable parts of this trip. However, upon further examination of the dorm it would appear that there is a full battery of chinese workers who would rather sit ten yards away from me and repeatedly drill into the wall every morning for the next week at eight thirty.”

“Ah, damn,” you might reply. “That seems rather unfortunate. What’re you going to do about it?”

But alas, by the time you asked this question, I probably wouldn’t be able to hear you over the noise. The drills start up about every six seconds, and last for about ten. So that would be the end of the conversation unless I were to follow my absolutely overpowering urge to go downstairs and see what those drills sound like when the bit is firmly inserted deep, deep up the nose of whatever motherfucker decided 8:30 is a suitable time for construction in a residential space. Then I might get some goddamn sleep.

Pure rage. Sleepy, sleepy rage.

In any event, it would appear that my first mission in China has been selected for me: find a good spot to take naps in public. Or murder a crew full of construction workers and get away with it. We’ll see. The napping thing is probably more likely though; it’s fantastically popular among the chinese, so i’d kinda like to see what all the hype is about.

But Jesus. Really, guys?

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