I need to leave. I need to get the hell out of here. I need to take a break from the real stultifying dullness that is Champaign. My mind is shot, my health is waning. This place has always been less desirable than others, but it has quickly emerged as my own personal hell. I need to be around people I care about, and who care about me. That place is not this place. I need consideration. Just a little fucking consideration.

My roommates and I all get along fairly well. I would call none of us friends though. Dan, whom I lived with last year too, is literally standing on my last nerve. He has a tendency to invite large groups of his farmboy friends for the weekend without mentioning anything to the rest of us. I really don't mind if he has people come to visit, and I actually like a few of them. But the point is he probably considers this his place, to be lived within his rules. Friday, a friend of his came down, went out on his own, came back insanely drunk at one a.m. and proceeded to spend a really long time in the bathroom. He's a nice guy. This morning I get up at 8 to go to work and I go into the bathroom and there is puke everywhere... except the toilet. On the floor. All over the bathtub. A little on the walls. It's revolting. I heard him take a half-hour shower late last night and then I heard a loud crash, as if he collapsed. Dan didn't move a muscle. He checked on him once and at that point he was asleep on the toilet. Dan has no consideration for anyone but himself and I starting to get bad at putting up with it.

Mike is home for the weekend. Dan told his 8 friends here that there is an open bed tonight. I know he did not ask Mike about this, nor will he tell him tomorrow night when he returns. He will act like it didn't happen. I know that when I've been home strange people have slept in my bed and surely other things. How many times has this happened over the last two years? No fucking consideration.

Mike would be considerate if he could remember. You could tell him that you need to get a solid night's sleep because you have to perform surgery in the morning, he'd forget as soon as you tell him and when he came back that night, drunk, he would be loud and fall asleep with the TV blaring. I can't count the times I've had to get out of bed at 4 or 5 in the morning and go turn the TV off. The lights are on at all times of the day. He almost always leaves the oven and/or George Foreman grill on for hours after he uses them. His problem is not lack of consideration, because he by nature is considerate, but complete forgetfulness.

Craig is pretty considerate, unless he's really really drunk. Then he doesn't give a shit or know what he's doing.

I routinely have to work in the mornings when I'm scheduled. On paper a 9 a.m. start time would not be a problem. But when I'm woken up or can't fall asleep til 6, I'm fucked. I often ask them to be quiet, but routine reinforcement of my consideration to them and me asking for theirs has not set in over the last semester and a half.

I need a break. I need time off. I can't take this much longer. The lure of the end is too much to look at sometimes, like looking at the sun in an eclipse. I'm tired, I'm tired, I'm tired.

Jeff