Nemesis, for Sunday Scribblings
Last week's prompt at Sunday Scribblings was about heroes. This week is about your nemesis.
I'm not sure I'd be 'allowed' to write about the person I actually think of as my nemesis. Out of deference to my dear friend, I won't even try, because I wouldn't be able to keep a civil tongue in my head. But when he reads this, I'm sure he'll know what I wanted to do for this prompt.
So, instead...a bit of my brand of farce.
My arch-nemesis, renewed on a daily basis, is my alarm clock. I'm not a morning person. I think I've told you that before. I completely adore the mornings that I can wake without the alarm clock. In fact, I dream of those mornings. Let me explain.
I have to wake in stages. Three, sometimes four, attacks at the snooze button are the norm. I actually set the alarm for 30 minutes before I should get up (which is roughly 50 minutes before I have to get up). Before I found an alarm clock with a 10-minute snooze, all I'd been able to find was 9-minute snoozes. I'd actually set the alarm for twenty-seven minutes before I intended to get up.
(As an aside, why NINE minutes? What was magical about that number? Other than to incite general pissiness in my morning attitude. Which is pissiness enough, frankly.)
When the alarm goes off the first time, I grumble at it. Think troll. Pissy, blonde-headed, librarian troll.
Second time, I whine. "Mmmm......noooooooooooooo." At this point, WonderDog starts making grumble noises.
Third time, I cuss. One of those long, drawn-out expletives. "Sheeeeuuutt." Or usually, more of a "Fuuuuuuuuuck me." (Mark the calendar, that's the first time the F-word has appeard in any form in my blogs.)
If I need a fourth (or fifth) time, more whining, more cussing. Then a general scramble because I'm now running behind and the coffee and ironing fairies took the flippin' night off. DAMN IT. This doesn't happen terribly often, because WonderDog's bladder can only make it through 25 minutes of snoozing, not even the full 30.
All this really boils down to the fact that I can't think of any place nicer to be until 10 or noon than my bed. It's warm, and soft, and perfect. The only way it could be any more perfect is if I happened to have a good smelling man in bed with me, warming the other half. (I'm not being facetious. And I'm rather particular.)
Of course, as I write this, it's 7:30 am, on a Saturday, marking the 8th day in a row that I've been off (we got a week for Thanksgiving) and I'm my couch. See, the WonderDog won out this morning, and is adamant about not going back to bed. If I thought he'd entertain himself quietly while I did return to my little nest, I would do it in a heartbeat. But, since we've only just turned two a month ago, well....that's not going to happen. You'd give in, too, if eight pounds were standing on your neck.
Oh well, I think I'll take a midmorning nap in a bit. Crawling in bed and all.
I'm not sure I'd be 'allowed' to write about the person I actually think of as my nemesis. Out of deference to my dear friend, I won't even try, because I wouldn't be able to keep a civil tongue in my head. But when he reads this, I'm sure he'll know what I wanted to do for this prompt.
So, instead...a bit of my brand of farce.
My arch-nemesis, renewed on a daily basis, is my alarm clock. I'm not a morning person. I think I've told you that before. I completely adore the mornings that I can wake without the alarm clock. In fact, I dream of those mornings. Let me explain.
I have to wake in stages. Three, sometimes four, attacks at the snooze button are the norm. I actually set the alarm for 30 minutes before I should get up (which is roughly 50 minutes before I have to get up). Before I found an alarm clock with a 10-minute snooze, all I'd been able to find was 9-minute snoozes. I'd actually set the alarm for twenty-seven minutes before I intended to get up.
(As an aside, why NINE minutes? What was magical about that number? Other than to incite general pissiness in my morning attitude. Which is pissiness enough, frankly.)
When the alarm goes off the first time, I grumble at it. Think troll. Pissy, blonde-headed, librarian troll.
Second time, I whine. "Mmmm......noooooooooooooo." At this point, WonderDog starts making grumble noises.
Third time, I cuss. One of those long, drawn-out expletives. "Sheeeeuuutt." Or usually, more of a "Fuuuuuuuuuck me." (Mark the calendar, that's the first time the F-word has appeard in any form in my blogs.)
If I need a fourth (or fifth) time, more whining, more cussing. Then a general scramble because I'm now running behind and the coffee and ironing fairies took the flippin' night off. DAMN IT. This doesn't happen terribly often, because WonderDog's bladder can only make it through 25 minutes of snoozing, not even the full 30.
All this really boils down to the fact that I can't think of any place nicer to be until 10 or noon than my bed. It's warm, and soft, and perfect. The only way it could be any more perfect is if I happened to have a good smelling man in bed with me, warming the other half. (I'm not being facetious. And I'm rather particular.)
Of course, as I write this, it's 7:30 am, on a Saturday, marking the 8th day in a row that I've been off (we got a week for Thanksgiving) and I'm my couch. See, the WonderDog won out this morning, and is adamant about not going back to bed. If I thought he'd entertain himself quietly while I did return to my little nest, I would do it in a heartbeat. But, since we've only just turned two a month ago, well....that's not going to happen. You'd give in, too, if eight pounds were standing on your neck.
Oh well, I think I'll take a midmorning nap in a bit. Crawling in bed and all.
Nov 25, 2006, 8:33:00 AM
Funny how a little bladder that's not our own can aid our discipline?
My alarm clock is across the room to guarantee a cooling off period before my hands get near it.
Nov 25, 2006, 8:50:00 AM
I refuse to get out of bed to turn off the alarm--because then my bladder goes into overdrive. The way my bedroom is arranged, my nightstand is actually at the foot of the bed, so I do have to sit all the way up to hit the snooze button. That seems to prevent snoozing into oblivion.
Nov 25, 2006, 9:46:00 AM
I love your take on this theme! I on the other hand, am a morning person, cursed with wakefulness prior to any alarm. These days is worse than general ... but your post has me wanting to crawl back in bed & enjoy the warmth of the bedcovers! zzzzzzz.... JP
Nov 25, 2006, 2:52:00 PM
I can sympathise, not being a morning person either. Nice take on the prompt!
Nov 25, 2006, 5:16:00 PM
My husband does the same thing with the alarm. Odd thing is that I'm the only one it wakes up!
You would love our two "wonderdogs" who have to be booted off the bed at 9:00!
Great post :)
Nov 25, 2006, 7:12:00 PM
Puppies can be trained to sleep in. Trust me. :) Great take on the prompt -- made me want to go back to my own soft bed!
Nov 27, 2006, 8:31:00 PM
My alarm does 6 minute snoozes and 6 can be turned into 60 on a tired day--late autumn days generally are. Good post.