That thing on your nightstand? That’s not an alarm clock, it’s a miniature terrorist, a tightly wound package of pandemonium and chaos.We all have one, although none of us like them. In fact, alarm clocks may well be the most disliked of the small home appliances.
Right now, at this very second, one is ringing somewhere in the world, waking some poor schmo who wants nothing more from life than another hour of sleep. His alarm clock is there, standing sentinel, to make sure that never happens.
The clock may look innocent, but don’t be fooled. It’s busy counting the minutes until that one sweet moment in the cold, gray light of dawn when it erupts into a blaring, clamoring box of noise. And sends you straight into arrhythmia. There’s real hostility in that cold, mechanical ringer.
The only violent fantasies I’ve ever entertained, involved my alarm clock and a meat tenderizer. Such a strident, persistent racket is unwelcome any time, but first thing in the morning? Puts a harsh on my mellow, man.
By their very nature, alarms are unwanted heralds. They’re the harbingers of bad news: they shriek, ‘wake up’ or ‘the house is on fire’ or ‘someone’s stealing your car.’ Not news you’re eager to hear, is it? Even so, this being a weekend, I’ve granted a reprieve to my battered and dented alarm clock. The poor thing is only doing its job, after all. Albeit a little too zealously, if you ask me.
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