There, and back again. I wish it had a happy ending, like Bilbo Baggins’s book. I dropped my wife off to spend a few days with her sister in the North country. Last night I stayed in a motel and bedded down for the night at 10 pm. I am by nature a light sleeper, and unused to sleeping in strange beds. Unfortunately, I also had the neighbours from hell. They stayed up all night, and the door to their room must have slammed fifty times. Finally, at 3 AM, I summoned up the courage to open my door and see what the hell was going on down the hall. At that point, I saw two figures dressed in deep hoodies, and sporting backpacks. They seem to be in a hurry to leave the neighbours room, and kept their heads down and their hats pulled over their faces. I am no babe in the bush, and it struck me that probably what was going down was a drug deal. This could be a flight of fancy on my part, but pieces fit together pretty well I think. Someone who is dealing could rent a room reasonably cheaply and use it as a headquarters for the evening to do their transactions. Hence, the multiple door slammings and conversations in the hall. At four in the morning, still without sleep, I got on the phone to the front desk and did some yelling. Things seem to quiet down for a bit, and I was drifting off by around 6 AM when the shenanigans resumed. So, not one iota of sleep the whole night really. Around 7 o’clock in the morning, I grabbed a coffee and went to see them at the front desk. I told them how my night had gone. They expressed sympathy and offered me a discount. Ha ha. I said a one hundred percent discount would be more in line with my thinking, and that’s what I walked out with. It is 6:45 PM as I write this, and I am going to bed for the night in my own comfy quiet room. Wish me luck.