The Alarmed Clock


I’m exhausted -- I haven’t been sleeping well lately.

I’ve been wanting to start my day properly and get up on a decent schedule for quite some time now. When my friend suggested, “perhaps an alarm clock would help,” I thoughtlessly acquired a new bedside companion.

That evening, I set it. Come morning, it rang.

Now it turned out that this alarm clock didn’t ring with an ordinary jingle jangle, but rather with that taunting sort of jangle jingle -- the kind that says: “Hey you! Why aren’t you up yet? How lazy are you anyway?”

Well I don’t take that kind of insinuation from anybody, much less from a household object, and especially when I’m otherwise in the middle of reverie.

I decided to show it who’s boss, so I gave it a satisfying thwack, and returned to my inner sanctum.

Mere moments passed...

“Rrrring Rrrring Rrrring Rrrring!”

I repeated my previous actions, as if expecting a different result.

This time I rolled over...

“Rrrring Rrrring Rrrring Rrrring!”

“So soon again? What are you, my dental hygienist?”

So I gave it another thwack, and this time placed it face down on the table-top, as a form of punishment.

I blinked my eyes...


This time the alarm clock bounced around on the marble table-top like a child’s toy, causing the entire table to vibrate in sympathy, but not for me.

“What now?! Are you some kind of broken record?”

Coincidentally, the marble table-top had by this time suffered a small fracture which would later cause it to crack open, much like a tooth after years of neglected dental appointments.

I threw the alarm clock against the wall, hoping to hear it smash into a thousand tiny pieces.

It did smash into several, but unfortunately the spring and bell fell into the heating grate. And proceeded to get wedged inside the venting pipe.


This would have awakened the entire neighborhood, if it weren’t for the fact that it was already ten of eleven. 

I should have been more thorough with my friend who suggested I use this utterly contemptible device.

See, my idea of starting the day properly begins with another pillow, a dream or two, warm feet, and an extended cozy-in -- at least until last night’s cocktail comes due by mid-afternoon.  And the only truly decent schedule for sleep requires timing with a calendar.

Since then, I have bought another alarm clock -- mostly to show it what I did to the previous one. Wisely, this one hasn’t the temerity to disturb my slumber. But I suspect it still gets a thrill every time the flue sends a rush of air past the noisy bits of my old nemesis roosted in the venting...

“Clunk. Srrrasssle-Whooshrrrl-Shrrraggle. Clunk!”