Sheer boredom.

Night 9 of being sick.

I open my door, it creaking like it never does during the day (of course) near the hinge area. I sneak my way downstairs as it seems some higher power chooses today is the day the stairs will creak more than ever before.

I get ready for my (rather elaborate) midnight snack routine as I turn the water boiler on, it suddenly overflowing when it's almost finished boiling the water. I rush to grab a cloth to clean my mess up, I'd rather not leave all this water next to these machines, all connected to the electricity.

Filling my little wittle heat pouch with the water so I can hold it against my little wittle tummy ache. It's been hurting for a while now, and nothing else seems to take away the pain.

Then I quietly open the cabinet door, rummaging through it as it's suddenly filled with objects that only seem to make the most loud crinkly, crunchy sound ever.

Disappointment fills me as I realise I will have to head downstairs into the basement, nothing that piques my interest filling the cabinet in the kitchen.

I open the door to the basement, not quite as creaky as my own, but getting there.

I turn on the lamp and make my way downstairs, as it seems my steps echo throughout the entire house.

Did I leave the living room door open? Does it even matter anymore after all this? I carefully step downstairs, however my attempt of being quiet stays in vain.

Creak, creak, creak.

Holding in my breath I find myself finally on the cold basement floor, grateful for my decision to wear socks for my little trip.

I look over the shelves, knowing there is nothing snackable present in the fridge. I'd checked earlier today. My eyes fall upon the rice crackers, right in view in the front of the see-through crate.

Jackpot. This'll satiate my craving.

I carefully open the crate, not wanting to make more unnecessary noise, regretfully not being able to open it far enough to reach the rice crackers without having to move the crate.

"Why's this crate got to be so heavy?" I ask myself when I attempt to move it forward a bit, trying to find some leeway to reach towards the crackers and grab them. At last I manage to open it far enough, bringing my newfound treasure back upstairs.

Creak, creak, creak.

Light off - I'm not trying to get in trouble tomorrow morning as mom wakes to find the light having been on the entire night. She doesn't have to know now, but if I make such a crucial mistake, her discovery of my late-night trip will be inevitable.

I close the door as quietly as I can, finally not making too much noise this time.

Making my way over to the kitchen scissors I can feel the dread coming over me, realising the amount of noise I'll be required to make if I want to get these open.

I contemplate my decisions for a short second, but in the end my cravings win. They always seem to. The plastic surrounding my soon-to-be meal crunches, crinkles. I groan quietly in annoyance, my prayers for this to have gone easily unanswered.

As I struggle to get the crackers out of their confinement I think of what to put on top of them. Or maybe, just eat them like this? No, far too plain. I struggle to choose between peanut butter, the crunchy kind - ofcourse, or cheese. Both combinations with the rice crackers quite familiar to me, making the decision even harder as I am fully aware of how both are elite options.

So I decide not to decide. Never been the guy for choosing, anyways.

Victory. The rice cracker is finally out of its packaging. The second one sliding out far easier, not putting up as much of a struggle.