Monday, August 16, 2004

The alarm clock. It’s one of the most fiendish inventions ever devised by humanity, easily outclassing mustard gas and frequent eater cards in sheer devilry. Many a morning I find myself waking a good ten minutes before my alarm goes off, gentle reader, just so I can prevent the damn thing from ringing. Does that make any sense at all? There’s a certain lunacy to this behavior, I know, and it’s like I’ve developed an antibody to productivity.

The fact that you’re reading this is tacit evidence that somewhere, in some room of your house, sits an alarm clock. Embedded in this alarm clock is a button you probably hit this morning with the back of your hand, right before you let fly with a string of groggy expletives. You probably knew, at the exact moment you turned off the stupid thing, that you were 96 hours away from Friday morning. What you didn’t know was that your alarm clock emitted far more than a simple beep-beep-beep.

To the untrained ear, the typical morning ritual unfolds like so.

Variation A

Clock: Beep, beep, beep, beep, bee–

You: Kill me now.

Variation B

Clock: Beep, beep, beep, beep, bee–

You: [uncontrollable sobbing]

Variation C

Clock: Beep, beep, beep, beep, bee–

You: Hmmm, maybe I’ll remember to NOT ingest my toothpaste today.

And so on and so forth. The true dialogue bantered between you and the foul device, however, reads like this.

Clock: Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.

You: No, not again.

Clock: Yes, it’s your clock speaking. As soon as you roll out of bed, you may bow to me, but not before you make my Eggo waffles.

You: For the love of breakfast, mercy! I planned on waking up at 4 PM today, after which I’d run free with the horses.

Clock: Hey, that sounds like a fine plan. After careful consideration, I think I’ll BEEP-BEEP-BEEP, BEEP-BEEP-BEEP.

You: The ringing, the ringing! Stop it, please.

Clock: Repeat after me. “I will be a productive member of society.”

You: I will be a productive member of society.

Clock: “I will make you breakfast.”

You: I will make you breakfast.

Clock: “I will skip to work.”

You: I will–do I have to say this?

Clock: SAY IT.

You: I will skip to work.

Clock: “I will bend over in the name of gainful employment.”

You: I will bend–what?

Clock: Hahaha, I’m just screwing with you. Now touch my snooze button.

You: My doctor says I shouldn’t–

Clock: TOUCH IT, so help me, or I will jump onto your bed tonight, land right next to your eardrum, and ring the motherloving bejeepers outta you at 7 AM. TOUCH ME!

You: Okay, okay! Do you want syrup on those waffles?

Well, that about sums up my morning experience. Let me know if you want to trade alarm clocks.