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I am Not a Morning Person

August 15, 2014



I am not a morning person.
I have become one, over the years, by necessity. I get up at 5:00 a.m. every weekday morning. Okay, to be precise, my trusty, old Timex alarm clock goes off at 5:05 a.m. and my iPhone goes off about five minutes later.
The alarm clock is set to awaken me with soft sounds of ocean surf, that begin as almost a whisper and slowly increases in volume. This gently nudges me awake, and I turn off the alarm and either get up, or go into a light slumber until my iPhone chimes away, and thus truly heralds in the new day. So, the order is: first alarm—shut it off, a brief silent respite and then the second alarm goes off—time to get up. That is the routine I’ve awakened to for years. 
This morning, I was awakened by the alarm from a sound sleep. I reached over completely annoyed, because I was, for the first time in weeks, snoozing really well. With practiced ease, I reached over, felt for the back button on top of the Timex and…the alarm kept going.
“What the?”  I pressed the back button again.
The alarm continued unabated.
I began pressing every button on the surface of the clock, any button combination I could think of. I was angry that this must surely be waking up my wife.
The alarm continued to be unfazed by any of my most alchemical button-pushing combinations.
Unable to turn the alarm or the clock off, I got up and began attempting to yank it off the bedside table. By this time, I should be turning green, and I would have been had I ever been exposed to gamma radiation. As pissed off as the Hulk has ever been, I grabbed the clock in one hand and began pulling on the black cord with the other. This violently jostled books and papers all over the top of my bedside table.
“Calm down, Ernie.” My wife said patiently from her side of the bed. 
I don’t know about you, but somebody telling me to calm down when I am in the middle of a class 4 nuclear meltdown never calms me down—not even a little, itty bitty bit.
In the near-worthless light of dawn, I finally traced the cord to where it was plugged into the wall, and pulled it out. I took the clock, alarm still filling the bedroom with its insolent, juggernaught-like mission to wake me the hell up. I walked to the sliding glass door, opened it, and chucked the damned thing out of the house and over the deck. I heard the silver hunk of Timex hit several limbs of the Fruitless Mulberry tree in its decent, and land with a satisfying crunch three stories below. Pure satisfaction.
In our bedroom, the alarm was still going off. Completely perplexed, I walked over to my bedside table and stared down in now 100% wakefulness. 
“It’s your iPhone, isn’t it?” asked my wife.
What a way to start the day.
  1. No regrets buddy, I hate those damn alarms too.

  2. The cool thing is that the alarm clock still works. Believe it, or not! I guess the old advertising slogan is true: “Timex. It takes a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’.”

  3. Seriously, telling someone to “calm down” almost never works.

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