At first, things didn't seem too bad. We each had two disaster blankets made from woven recycled cloth, and they were surprisingly soft. One folded in half for the ground, one draped over the body. There was some conversation about shoes on or off, and where our stuff should go. Around midnight the talking started to settle. By this point I am feeling pretty tired, and a fairly reliable method of settling people off to bed is bedtime songs. So, drawing on my youth, I sing "Michael Row Your Boat Ashore" (chosen ironically because of Michael), and "Where Have All the Flowers Gone." Few would be startled to learn my mother was a hippie.
I don't know when other people went to bed. I slipped off after about half an hour of trying to find which part of my hip I didn't mind jabbing into the ground.
I wake around 2:30 am. It is cold. The blankets may be soft, but they don't hold the heat. I spend more than an hour rustling around trying to figure out how to get warmer. Judging from other rustling, other people are awake, too. Eventually, I manage to wrap the bottom blanket around me as well, which helps. I sneak around the group and wrap other peoples bottom blanket around them. Some are awake and thank me. Others are sleeping.
In all, I managed to get another 30 or 45 minutes of sleep out of the darkness.
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