Thursday, February 17, 2005

Surely things have changed by now, gentle reader, and the unholy sway of our alarm clocks has abated to the softest of beeps. Oh, if only that were the case.

Six months ago, we discussed a particular type of sickness, wherein the afflicted woke 15 minutes, maybe even a full hour before his alarm clock rang just so he could turn off the stupid thing. In another time, in a perfect world, we–a motley collection of bloodshot eyes–would have found peace after so many weeks. Our morning rituals would resemble, truly, Broadway shows, complete with swelling orchestral accompaniment as we made our trips to the dumpster.

Why is it, then, I woke exactly one minute before my alarm activated on Monday? It’s getting worse. Imagine Pavlov going about his famous experiment, except instead of using a piece of steak he grabs a cricket bat. This is why I’m here. Am I alone?

Clock: So I sez to my barber, “Charlie, my good man! I bet I could shave a few seconds off that guy’s haircut.” And then he chuckles and shoots right back at me, “Clock! You’re such a cut-up. How you been?” And then I start ringing. And Charlie starts crying.

You: Wha– I thought– No, it can’t possibly be.

You don’t call, you don’t write. What happened?

M-my therapist said– She said all I had to do was think about unicorns and gumdrops.

I’m your new therapist, sweetcakes, and I’m also breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Open wide!

Unicorns and gumdrops. Unicorns and gumdrops. Gumdrops and unicorns. Children laughing. Children crying. Alarm clock. Clock. Clock. Clock. Oh. No.

Your therapist? The boys down in local 17252 are going on strike. She tossed Barney out the window, poor bastard. Can you say “hazard pay”?

This isn’t happening. I am not talking to my alarm clock.

I’m sorry, did you just ask me to ring, ring, ring?

My eyes! My ears! Stop it, I’ll do whatever you ask.

Say it.

U-unicorns and gum–

SAY IT.

Hazard pay! Hazard pay! I’ll make you breakfast now.

There you go. RING! RING! RING!

Gum. Gum. Gumclock. Clock. Clock?

I’m your new Folger’s, bitch! Now take me to work.