My first alarm clock was small and round. It had two brass bells on top and stood on four stubby legs. I bought it because I figured that was what an alarm clock should look like. It worked fine but it wasn’t long before I beat it to death with a shoe.
I did that because it failed to wake me for an important meeting.
My second clock was a sturdier affair. Forged from high tensile steel, the face was crafted from the same bullet proof glass used in fighter jets. It didn’t last long either, though it took more than a shoe to kill it.
My third clock was a radio alarm. When I took it out of the box, I did not recall it having a snooze button. I suspect the little guy sprouted it spontaneously after seeing the remains of his peers scattered about my bedroom. Though the button saved its life on many a morning – it also made me late for an important meeting so I gave it the shoe.
The last and final alarm was an app on my cell phone. I had the foresight to know that if the alarm kept sounding I would destroy the phone and this would be costly. I also knew that a snooze button would cost me my job – so I hacked the application code and added an ingenious modification.
After the alarm sounded, it would immediately apologize.
After begging forgiveness, the alarm was programmed to meekly raise its voice from a soothing whisper to a gentle nag. It would then reassure me there was no reason to get out of bed, that my calendar was clear and no meetings were scheduled. Once I accepted that, it would continue in a soft persuasive voice – suggesting that perhaps I should consider going to work anyway, just in case someone wanted to talk to me. Of course this is subterfuge – but it is deceit that greases the skids of office politics – which always put me in the proper frame of mind for meetings.
But now I am retired and have no reason to get up… but again there is an exception.
Every Wednesday morning after I have forgotten to roll the trash cart to the road the night before… a soft, soothing voice will ever so gently urge me out of my slumbers to meet the garbage truck at 5:22 am – sharp.