When I woke up this morning at 6:30 it was to the demonic howling of Bob, my little green alarm clock. That sounds hateful, it really does… and there’s a reason for that. I hate my alarm clock.
Before you go getting any ideas about my alarm clock wronging me in some way I should step in to say that this little wobbling egg shaped alarm clock that I have is the best alarm clock I’ve ever owned. I would love it if I were capable of loving something that wakes me up early 5 days a week.
Wait, my kid tends to wake me up pretty early so maybe I should restate that? If I were capable of loving something I didn’t give birth to that wakes me up by beeping 5 days a week. Yes, that’s better and much more specific. Well this morning little Bob clock pulled the same shit it pulls every weekday, only when I heard it I got pissed off.
“SHUT UP IT’S SATURDAY” I scolded the little plastic beast. I picked it up and turned off the alarm and started to snuggle back down into my pillow until my brain did some quick dreamlike processing.
“First of all” my brain said “Last night you went to Backfence… Those aren’t on Fridays”
I ignored it.
“And today is Ignite 5… that’s a Thursday”
I told that nagging brain of mine to screw off.
“And you didn’t do Strange Love Live last night”
That was logic I couldn’t ignore. I sat up, looked around and cleared my head only to discover that my clock and brain had been right. It was a weekday. Thursday. A school day for K.
And my alarm clock? It just sat there silent and smug, and that, dear alarm clock, is why I hate you so much.