6:00 AM.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEE-
I hit the snooze button, only barely awake. I’m so tired I can’t even pull my arm away from my alarm clock just yet, so my hand rests on it awkwardly. The bright light the clock emits stares me in the face nonchalantly and stoically, and I glare back, practically shooting daggers out of my eyes. I’ve never gambled before, and that’s probably a good thing, ‘cause I’d have a crap poker face. Covers so warm; bed, so soft; so damn tired-
ZZZ.
6:15 AM.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEE-
My arm and the snooze button make contact once more. Why do I set my alarm for six in the freaking morning when I don’t have to be out of bed for school until seven?! Oh yeah, because I need the extra hour to wake up slowly, otherwise I’ll oversleep.
And because I’m stupid.
It’s only just now that I recognize how lovely my bedspread is. “Only in suffering do we recognize beauty”- no, no too early for Proust, too early for Proust, too early for-
Then again, too early for narrating, too, and yet here I am.
ZZZ.
6:30 AM.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEE-
Managed to have a dream in the last fifteen minutes of sleep: something along the lines of The SpongeBob Squarepants Movie meets Get Him to the Greek meets The Departed, but starring Christian Bale and Andy Samberg and… myself. Narrated by Chewbacca. I’m sure Freud’s mouth would water just hearing about it.
What is wrong with me? God, I can’t even focus right now, my brain keeps retreating back into… my brain… a different part of my brain… subconscious… you know what, you get the idea. Yeah, Freud would’ve loved me. And I am quite confident I would’ve hated him.
ZZZ.
6:45 AM.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEE-
I come within an inch of punching the snooze button for no reason, but apparently now I’m awake enough to know that would be dumb idea. You’re probably asking yourself (okay, probably not, but humor me), “why don’t you just have your alarm be a song instead of beeping, Mr. Narrator-Man?” Actually, you’re definitely not asking yourself that, because I failed to mention that my alarm clock is an iHome. With my iPod attached. I, I’m really, really tired.
But to answer my/your question, at one point- I think I was in sixth grade- my sister did that, and she set it way too loud, so one morning I was just lying there, sleeping, oh so very tired and “WHEN YOU MY FACE HOPE IT GIVES YOU HELL HOPE IT GIVES YOU HELL! WHEN YOU WALK MY WAY HOPE IT GIVES YOU HELL HOPE IT GIVES YOU HELL!”
You can understand my complete lack of endearment towards this concept.
ZZZ.
7:00 AM.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEE-
Well, show time I guess. Sadly. As I pull the covers off my groggy body, I think to myself, “Well, hey, its Fri- no wait, its Thursday well that’s not so”-
And then it dawns on me (pun fully intended): it’s Wednesday.
This is gonna be a bad day.