Just a thought… Just because you’re naked doesn’t mean you’re sexy. Just because you’re cynical doesn’t mean you’re cool. [Tom Robbins]
As you read this (or watch on my Facebook page, or here on YouTube), I’m at a house on a beach up island with my soul sister and almost-twin (give or take 10 days) Lisa Brandt. I promise to share pictures and stories of our farewell to summer on Vancouver Island next week here and, of course, in Facebook, Instagram and Twitter posts (you can find where I am at the end bottom of this page) but right now, let me tell you what I hope I won’t be sharing: an alarm clock story.
I have a love/hate relationship with the things. From the early days of the flipping, clicking numbers of the first clock radios to the songs and chirps of a smartphone, I’ve had just about every device (except for an actual clanging alarm clock) wake me up for work over the years. 2:30, 3:30, 4:00 am – it didn’t matter what the job or how close to work I lived, I was getting up while most people were just entering their REM cycle. And it was never just one alarm, always two or more. Eventually I moved to a sunrise lamp, and I’ve told you about it here before, but it changed my life.
It seems now, however, that even though I’m done with alarm clocks, they’re not quite done with me.
When I was in a cabin with my sister a few weeks back, I had one night to myself before her flight arrived. I stayed up way past midnight, as I love to do – call it my crazy rebellious stage – and looked forward to a nice sleep-in. However, as I was placing the clock radio on the bedside table, on a roll of toilet paper (so it would be high enough for me to see from my pillow on the other side of the queen-sized bed), I noticed that it was set for 6 am. A-HA! I thought. You won’t get me! And then I thought there ought to be a law forbidding people who set alarms to leave them set once they’ve gotten up and left. Or maybe it was a power outage. I’m not sure, but I figured I’d outsmarted that clock and I went to sleep smug and happy.
Until 6 am, that is. From my deep sleep, I was roused by the sound of electrical chirping. I sat on the edge of the bed and wondered where it was coming from: not the clock in my room, but was it like a carbon monoxide alarm? What was making that persistent chirp?
Without grabbing so much as a robe (and yes, I sleep au naturel) I padded out to the living room. Following the sound, I climbed the open staircase to the loft and, sure enough, that’s where the small round iHome clock was calling out to anyone who could hear (and with the nearby window open, I worried that might be fellow guests) to wake up.
I fiddled with buttons and pushed this one and that one – no luck at all. That thing kept ringing. Why hadn’t I worn my glasses so I could see what the buttons were for? Eventually, and quite by chance, I hit the right one and it stopped. But I left the clock on the bed for Cindy to look at when she arrived; I didn’t want to put it back and forget about its nasty persistence.
Then, oh no. I realized I had to pee. There’s me, no clothes on, trying to run but not end up face first on the landing at the bottom of the carpeted stairs – I’ve had my share of stairs mishaps the past while – and I’m walking as fast as I can with legs nearly crossed to get to the bathroom.
I made it, but barely – I guess in more ways than one – went back to bed and slept another couple of hours before getting up to go back to the city to pick up my sister.
And that alarm clock? It kept going off every morning. We unplugged it. We tried everything. And finally, on the day we were leaving, Cindy found the manual for the stupid thing.
I don’t get along with clocks, especially that little round one. A “timely” reminder to check them when you check in, wherever you are. Like I always say, if you can’t be a good example, at least be a warning for someone else, right?
Take good care and enjoy this last week of August. And I’ll be back with you next week on Tuesday. Have a lovely Labour Day weekend and if getting “back to” is part of your family’s challenge, I humbly suggest sleep stories on Drift with Erin. My great-nephews, who are under 10, listen to them nightly, which I just love….and you can, too, for free, thanks to Kathy and Kim at enVypillow.com. Just click here and sweet dreams.