By far the best thing about my house is the roof access. We live in what we've so lovingly dubbed "the attic" because it's just that, the (very small) top floor of a house. We don't actually have a dishwasher - besides Carla that is. Which means air conditioning also would be a ridiculous expectation.
My room is at the end of the hall, as far away from the swamp cooler as physically possible. I'm sure I won't mind come winter, but for now sometimes it's like living in a little sauna. A messy, dry, sauna lacking the masseuse and warm towels. Ok it's nothing like living in a sauna. Never mind.
When it's just too dang hot at night and the open windows only let in the crazy* outside noises, I grab my sleeping bag. And then I head to the bathroom, where the window to the roof is. And I do this super classy routine where I stuff the sleeping bag outside and then climb on the toilet and do my best Lolo Jones imitation as I stick my leg through the window and awkwardly pull the rest of my body behind. I'd be so good at hurdles you guys.
Hard surfaces used to be impossible for me to sleep on. I never slept during sleepovers or campouts. But for some reason, I can on this roof. Although I do sleep in libraries too now. Provo is doing some Weird things to me. It's not even that picturesque, any bird song has been replaced by tires on gravel and slamming doors, and there's apartments all around me, but there's these little details that I love.
I love the orange light from the street lamp that shines through the leaves of the tree next door. I love pulling on a sweatshirt to sleep in and the morning air before the sun rises above the mountains.
I think I'll want to remember these nights. I could so easily forget about those few weeks in the fall semester when it was nice enough to sleep outside and I had roof access. They're simultaneously completely insignificant, and yet so overwhelmingly important. Life - my very own life - is made in these details.
*oh so crazy Provo. we are just wiiiii----iiild over here.