There it goes again, that annoying beep-beep-beep-beep. Five days a week it beeps at me at precisely the same time and five days a week I'd like to take it and throw it against a wall. I know, that would be violence against a hapless alarm clock that is just doing its job, namely reminding me that it is 5:30 a.m. and time to get on with the business of the day. I don't fault it for that, it's just that I've usually been up for at least an hour, thanks to my four furry four-footed housemates who are firmly of the opinion that no mother-figure of theirs should be in bed later than 4:30 at the very latest.
On the whole, I'd prefer the beep-beep-beep to Gandhi's vocal exercises, as amazed as I always am by the range of tone and volume he possesses, especially at 4 a.m. . I'd prefer the beep to Dominic's moving from one side of me to the other, usually walking over me and making sure that every one of his four feet lands on my body in at least two places during the exchange also at about 4 a.m. I'd even prefer it to Domi and Sama having a fraternal wrestling match on the bed right next to my feet, but somehow it never works out. I usually obediently roll out of bed at their command, do what needs immediately doing for myself and then head for the cat food cabinet. That's all it takes. They eat and then go off to various places to enjoy their morning nap, having done what they could to disrupt mine. If they weren't so lovable (most of the time)....
Of course, when I'm busy taking a shower or some other occupation where interruption is not really welcome, there goes that beep-beep-beep-beep, escalating to beepbeepbeep if I don't respond within the first thirty seconds or so. If that doesn't get me in there to shut it off, there's always the louder, more insistent beepbeepbeepbeep!! until I finally get to a place where I rush into the bedroom and hit the button that puts it to sleep for another 24 hours or so. Today I was halfway through inserting one of my prosthetics into the bra I planned on wearing. What do I do when that dratted thing beeps at me? Leave the prosthetic folded like a taco stuck halfway into the pocket where it will spend the day or finish inserting it and then go shut off the clock? The prosthetic won today but tomorrow I may have to scramble out of the shower and drip my way in to turn it off or interrupt the flow of words while I'm sitting in front of the computer and typing away at some piece of potential brilliance.
I have a "smart" alarm clock. It recognizes Saturday and Sunday as days when I don't need to have an alarm go off so it very politely refrains from beeping at me on those days. That's nice of it, or whoever decided to program it that way. Of course, I could have it turn on to a radio station instead of the beep, but that wouldn't propel me out of bed if I were still in a prone position when it went off. I can sleep through music; I can't sleep through beep-beep-beep. I could just turn the darned thing off completely but then I might just oversleep and be late to work or an appointment or something. Yeah, fat chance with the boys around, but who knows? They might decide that I need a day to sleep in (another fat chance, but it has been known to happen -- once, about two years ago, I think it was). .
Something in my psychological makeup says I need to have a working alarm clock set and ready. I pay my insurance company to take care of my car and house and I pay my doctors to help keep me as healthy as humanly possible. That little mechanical device helps to ensure that I meet the day in a timely fashion. It's just another kind of insurance.
Of course there is another alternative. I could just set the alarm back to 4:30 and be done with it.
Nah. That's too simple.