I wanna go home!

I don't have anything against the Radisson as a hotel - I just don't like most hotels.

This morning we're meeting our friends later than usual, 9 am. Then we're off to the north section of town, the Italian St. Anthony's Festival! Now, I'm set for some fun there.

But I was up early - really early. I can't seem to find my "sleep number" on the Sleep Number bed. Couldn't turn on the TV and couldn't turn on a light to read, so I just plopped down in front of the laptop at the desk and turned down the brightness on the screen. It was so quiet in here that I heard my other neighbors:
1. Somebody else was unhappy about the bed; whoever it was tried three times to get that number right. 2. Bathroom duties. I wonder if that somebody drank too much water before bedtime; it went on and on. 3. Flush. 4. Back to finding the number. 5. Back to the bathroom. This time, I wondered if this person ate too much fiber yesterday. 6. Flush. 7. Yawn - big yawn, and stretch. I did - I heard it. 8. Opening the drapes - and then the sliding doors to the balcony. (My curiosity got the best of me. I opened our balcony doors and stuck my head out. Yikes, there he was, on the balcony - in his skivvies! I ducked inside; I mean, I have on jammies but they're not that attractive.)

I sat back down at the desk, thinking maybe, since "he" was out on the balcony catching the morning air, that I would be released from participation in a stranger's morning routine. So now...where is all that flushing coming from? And now who's pumping up that Sleep Number bed?