One of the first things I bought for my apartment was an alarm clock.
It's this small gray job with the blocky red numbers and that one wire that's supposed to act as a radio antennae. Like most clock radios it gives you the option of waking up to music or to some sort of alarm, which is nice -- because I've always had trouble waking up to music. If I'm deep in a dream-filled sleep and a song comes on the radio - no matter what type of station I choose -- it's almost automatic for me to work that song into the dream I'm having, almost like a soundtrack or something. And as nice as that can sometimes be, it's certainly no way to wake up.
So to fight this, I try to make sure that any alarm clocks I have are set to buzz or ring or beep or whatever it is the designer put in there as an alternative to music. And that's where I feel like the clock radio I bought truly shines.
See, my alarm clock beeps. But it's not just a beep. It's a horrid, screetching sound that seems to get louder and louder every time it chimes. If you need a better idea of what it sounds like - try to imagine the sound of someone repeatedly stabbing R2D2 in the eye with a rusty fork.
It's not so much a sound wakes you up in the morning as it's something you want to get as far away from as you can. And as such, it's probably one of the best alarm clocks I've ever had in my life.
I'm the guy who used to need like 3 alarm clocks placed strategically in different rooms set in staggered progressions so that I would physically have to hunt around the house to stop the noise that's keeping me from going back to sleep. And don't come to me with any of that "set the clock five minutes fast" nonsense either -- Five minutes on an alarm clock is not going to change anything in terms of me feeling like I've overslept and have to get a move on before I'm late to work. If I'm deep in a good dream there's no problem at all for me to ask Eva Longoria to wait a couple of minutes before resuming her ...activities with the whipped cream we've been enjoying. Besides, I can hit a snooze bar a hundred times in five minutes without even batting an eye. Five minutes is nothing.
But here's the strange thing. Somehow, I don't even know how -- I broke it. I touched some button, or hit it too hard, or choked it, ...something. Because for the last week or so it's not been going off at all. And the suckiest part of all is that I know it's not going off in the mornings because I'm waking up on my own now at the time it's supposed to be beeping wondering where the noise is.
This is one of those signs, one of those somber moments when I know I'm truly getting old. Because if there's one thing youth doesn't suffer from -- it's an internal alarm clock. Being young means you life life to the fullest, and then collapse into recouperation sleep. Waking up on your own before the alarm goes off is like the last warning sign on the road before becoming an utter slave to the morning hours, before that time in your life when your internal clock is directly linked to the need to take a whiz.
See, when women fret about getting older they worry about wrinkles, or gravity making their body sag, stuff like that. But men? Men worry that when they get older they'll turn into one of those guys. You know the ones. The dudes who gather at Dunkin Donuts and McDonalds at like four in the morning to drink coffee?
I mean, if I'm waking up before the alarm goes off, how long is it going to be before I start going to bed three hours earlier? I need to start checking my vital signs -- measuring just how many episodes of Law and Order I take in during a given week, checking my sunglasses to make sure that they aren't getting bigger than my head, or that I can't actually wear them on top of another pair of glasses that I'm already wearing at the same time!
Where's that measuring tape? Where did that child hide it this time? Always messing with my things, not putting them back in the proper place.. It's a nightmare I tell you, a nightmare! Why if I had a nickel for every time I told him to put things back where they belong, I'd be a millionare. Then I wouldn't have to get up every morning and drag myself in to work. Speaking of, why isn't the alarm going off yet? It's already 6:30, it should have started beeping..
It's this small gray job with the blocky red numbers and that one wire that's supposed to act as a radio antennae. Like most clock radios it gives you the option of waking up to music or to some sort of alarm, which is nice -- because I've always had trouble waking up to music. If I'm deep in a dream-filled sleep and a song comes on the radio - no matter what type of station I choose -- it's almost automatic for me to work that song into the dream I'm having, almost like a soundtrack or something. And as nice as that can sometimes be, it's certainly no way to wake up.
So to fight this, I try to make sure that any alarm clocks I have are set to buzz or ring or beep or whatever it is the designer put in there as an alternative to music. And that's where I feel like the clock radio I bought truly shines.
See, my alarm clock beeps. But it's not just a beep. It's a horrid, screetching sound that seems to get louder and louder every time it chimes. If you need a better idea of what it sounds like - try to imagine the sound of someone repeatedly stabbing R2D2 in the eye with a rusty fork.
It's not so much a sound wakes you up in the morning as it's something you want to get as far away from as you can. And as such, it's probably one of the best alarm clocks I've ever had in my life.
I'm the guy who used to need like 3 alarm clocks placed strategically in different rooms set in staggered progressions so that I would physically have to hunt around the house to stop the noise that's keeping me from going back to sleep. And don't come to me with any of that "set the clock five minutes fast" nonsense either -- Five minutes on an alarm clock is not going to change anything in terms of me feeling like I've overslept and have to get a move on before I'm late to work. If I'm deep in a good dream there's no problem at all for me to ask Eva Longoria to wait a couple of minutes before resuming her ...activities with the whipped cream we've been enjoying. Besides, I can hit a snooze bar a hundred times in five minutes without even batting an eye. Five minutes is nothing.
My alarm clock is set half an hour ahead.And not because that trick works on me better when it looks like that's what time it is (I mean honestly, does anyone ever fall for that?) -- but that after half an hour of smacking the snooze bar around, there's really nothing else to do but get out of bed.
But here's the strange thing. Somehow, I don't even know how -- I broke it. I touched some button, or hit it too hard, or choked it, ...something. Because for the last week or so it's not been going off at all. And the suckiest part of all is that I know it's not going off in the mornings because I'm waking up on my own now at the time it's supposed to be beeping wondering where the noise is.
This is one of those signs, one of those somber moments when I know I'm truly getting old. Because if there's one thing youth doesn't suffer from -- it's an internal alarm clock. Being young means you life life to the fullest, and then collapse into recouperation sleep. Waking up on your own before the alarm goes off is like the last warning sign on the road before becoming an utter slave to the morning hours, before that time in your life when your internal clock is directly linked to the need to take a whiz.
See, when women fret about getting older they worry about wrinkles, or gravity making their body sag, stuff like that. But men? Men worry that when they get older they'll turn into one of those guys. You know the ones. The dudes who gather at Dunkin Donuts and McDonalds at like four in the morning to drink coffee?
They're not there because the coffee's good.They're loading up on fluids. Trying to get something to actually answer the bell when they feel the urge. I mean, do you think old guys actually like hanging out at the Wal-Mart snack bar? No way, man -- they're the only ones that serve that lemonade that goes right through you! Hell if you hang out there long enough, they'll give you a job greeting people when they walk in!
They're there because they want to pee, but can't.
Welcome to Wal-Mart, I haven't peed in weeks!Before too long you meet other people with the same problem, you start making a few friends, hanging out with them at Elk lodges, maybe wearing funny hats, and the next thing you know you're driving some tiny car in a Shriner's parade.
I mean, if I'm waking up before the alarm goes off, how long is it going to be before I start going to bed three hours earlier? I need to start checking my vital signs -- measuring just how many episodes of Law and Order I take in during a given week, checking my sunglasses to make sure that they aren't getting bigger than my head, or that I can't actually wear them on top of another pair of glasses that I'm already wearing at the same time!
Where's that measuring tape? Where did that child hide it this time? Always messing with my things, not putting them back in the proper place.. It's a nightmare I tell you, a nightmare! Why if I had a nickel for every time I told him to put things back where they belong, I'd be a millionare. Then I wouldn't have to get up every morning and drag myself in to work. Speaking of, why isn't the alarm going off yet? It's already 6:30, it should have started beeping..
Oh God -- Eva wake up, It's happening again!!
[Listening to: Deftones, "Korea"]
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