Alarm Clock

Monday.

My alarm went off this morning. This is my “It’s friggin’ 7 AM and if you haven’t already woken up on your recognisance then you better seriously reconsider your life because, honey, I’m all that separates you from your comfy king-sized bed with orthopedic mattress and 300 thread-count sheets and being a bag lady” alarm. I’ve largely been ignoring this alarm for the last year, not unlike like a teenager grunting in response to being told for the 5th time to take out the garbage. Last spring, this sing-song dispatch of doom was mere punctuation on interminable episodes of sleep-depriving back pain; later, it infringed upon my drug-induced valium comas (which, after hours of the aforementioned pain, had whisked me off to fairy land usually only a paltry three hours before); then it crowded in on my reprieves from mid-night fretting over my ailing, aging canine’s new obsession with thrashing on the bed like a detoxing alcoholic trying to get the cockroaches to stop crawling all over his face; other times, it just ominously tolled another day in which I go to work, full of life, feel shut down by 10 AM, sometimes downright scared and defensive by 1 PM, and come home able to do nothing but stare at the TV for the rest of the evening. As you might imagine, this alarm came to seem as about as useful to me a pair of long johns in summer. It just wasn’t what was needed.

Had I thought about it this weekend, I would have disabled it. But I hadn’t. And so, this morning, it went off for the 78th time in this, my 39th year of zipping around the sun. And although I didn’t sleep all that well last night, the alarm didn’t really bother me this time. In fact, it struck me as kind of amusing. Yeah, the more I lay there, the funnier it was. Kind of like finding yourself the butt of a comedian’s jokes in a nightclub, there’s no harm in laughing at yourself because, when all is said and done, you get to go home whenever you want, looking like a good sport, but he’s gotta come back out night after night and try to get people to like him all over again. So, to my beloved alarm I say: Whatevah.

I think, for now, I’ll keep it. I mean, let’s face it: I can always nap later.

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5 thoughts on “Alarm Clock

  1. If you ever feel like giving up the alarm clock,.. I can lend you the birds that like to roost next to my bedroom window. You’d think that waking up to chirping birds would be all peaceful and great,.. but it’s not.. especially since it’s at 4 am . 😐 Thankfully I’ve started to learn to sleep through them. πŸ™‚

    • Your birds and my birds should get together at some other tree and have a party. The worst are the damn crows. AWK! AWK! Plus, they are so damned big and bossy that I could see them flying right in through my balcony door and pecking my eyes open.

      • Funny.. I put out one of those cheesy fake owls to frighten birds away from my cherry tree in my back yard.. (it’s head turns if it detects motion, ..and it hoots, although I leave that off most of the time) and, the birds in the front by my window have found a different place to roost down the block.. It’s much better now. You may want to try the electronic hooting owl. πŸ™‚

        As for the crows. I like crows. They are the only animal which when grouped together are called a “murder”. (You probably already knew that). If you were called a “murder” you’d probably be bossy too.. hehe.

    • Woo hoo! May you have the joy of hanging out the window of a moving car throwing your head in banger-like frenzy shouting at the sky,

      SKOOOOOOOOL’s
      OUT
      FOR
      SUMMAH!

      Yeah, baby, yeah.

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