I've finally broken down, after about sixteen weeks of instituationalization, and bought ear plugs. I have to say that even in an already quiet room, it really helps. All I hear at night is my own lungs breathing and my own heart beating. If I strain really hard to try and hear, I'll be able to pick up Mike's snoring or his blaring radio. At first, when Page was with us, that I would just ask him to turn it down. I realize now, after making more headway into Anarchy, State, and Utopia, that if there's an alternative that allows both of us to live in a manner comfortable to us (the earplugs aren't all that bad, actually, but I did make sure to get a big ol' pack of them), then why not opt for the utilitarian solution?

As soon as we get a new bunkie, though, all bets are off.

Mike's tenure so far has been very up and down. He came in pissing dirty, and he was given extra days for it, but he received a speed letter from his outside probation officer, informing him that he's very lucky that he wasn't on drug terms during his probation sentence, otherwise, his arriving into furlough with THC in his urine would have given him an extra thirty days instead. He sought the counsel of his buddy John downstairs and was caught smoking in the downstairs smoking area (a no-no; I think he was lucky that I was there since both Morales and Barossa know me to be a good guy). His Cleveland Browns got shut out in the snow by my San Diego Chargers, and on top of all that, he got a written warning for not making his bed properly. I'm pretty sure he can't wait to get out of here. In the meantime, I'll be sleeping pretty.