sleeping is for wusses

Staying at my grandparents' place throughout the years is a game of musical beds.
There are three rooms where sleeping arrangements can be made.
- the bedroom with two single beds
- my mum's old room with a decent sized bed
- the living room where the couch can be turned into a bed

I remember the following arrangements:
- way back my grandfather used to sleep in the living room, my grandmother on one of the beds in the bedroom --> so when I stayed here as a kid I conveniently slept in the "kid's" room
- later on my grandma moved to the couch and my granddad slept in the bedroom
- now grandma sleeps in the kid's room and my grandfather in the living room. when I was younger I got to sleep in the kid's room anyways, but nowadays I try to keep them from changing the arrangements when I stay here. It's just unnecessary fuss. But maybe that was a mistake because in the bedroom the beds are too short for me. I'm 5'6 so I'm not even that tall, but I swear either I decide to stick my head to the headboard or my feet are hanging out at the bottom. I timed my going to bed at half past midnight when my grandmother was in between snoring phases and managed to fall asleep, but got woken up at two from a tummy ache (I still have to go through a couple of medicinal measures the doctor prescribed after the coloscopy, so sometimes it still hurts). However after I took something to resolve the pain I couldn't go back to sleep because the roller blind was rattling - and of course my feet were still hanging out, which irritates the hell out of me. To cut the long story short: after hours of futile attempts at sleeping at 7 a.m. I decided to just get up and get over it. Now I look like some mad creature that could be out to get you. I'll fill up on coffee to avoid falling asleep on the train tonight. Now it's shopping time.