I hate alarm clocks. Not because of the way they always seem to go off at the good part of the dream, but because of that damn snooze button. Some evil corporation called Wesclox decided that it would be a great idea to add the button in 1959 to their clocks. I suppose, after all, the purpose of an evil corporation is to make money and they do this by providing the people with what they want, and who wants to get out of bed in the morning? Nobody does; mornings are meant for squirming around in bed wishing you had just set your alarm clock for nine instead of getting up and hitting snooze every five minutes for the last half an hour. I could force myself to actually get up and out of bed at eight-thirty if I really wanted to, but surely the benefits of that extra half an hour of being in that half-sleep-half-awake state outweigh the costs of skipping breakfast and showering at night instead.
Crying. Now that’s a way to wake up. I should amend that statement. Getting hit in the face with a pillow by your significant other who’s tired of dealing with the baby; now that’s a way to wake up. With a baby crying in the next room you’re sort of forced to go resolve whatever issue is perplexing your child before you’re allowed to move on to the next task, which is frequently going back to sleep because baby’s don’t work like alarm clocks in the sense that you get to choose when they go off, but they do however seem to be programmed to go off every five minutes. I had an idea about how to go about fixing my alarm clock/baby issues, but it quickly got shot down by the mother of the child. I figured I could just put my alarm clock in the baby’s room, and then when the clock went off, the baby would naturally start crying (since that is a baby’s response to every and any stimuli) and I would be forced to get up and take care of it. When I was done attending to the baby, which hopefully would just be a matter of turning the alarm clock off and cooing the baby a bit, I could get ready for the day and be on with it. I don’t know why she didn’t like this idea.
Today is a Wednesday. Wednesdays suck. Which is a very arbitrary thing to say, because really a day is a day and the only reason it’s a Wednesday is because everyone agrees that it is a Wednesday. I could completely reject the modern day notion of a ‘week’ and say everything runs on a three-day system, but that wouldn’t be very effective for interacting with everybody else. Really, it’s everybody else’s fault that today is a Wednesday, and thus it’s everybody else’s fault that today sucks.
Hump day they call it. It’s the middle of the week, and if you can just make it over this hump you’re coasting to the weekend. Well that’s kind of bullshit, because all my important stuff is due on Friday, which naturally means I’ll be doing all my work on Thursday. Wednesdays are boring because I’ve lost the motivation I had at the beginning of the week derived from simply having the energy to have motivation from not working on the weekend, but it’s not quite far enough into the week where I garnish some motivation to do work simply because I need to get the work done or face repercussions. Thus Wednesdays are boring and I will not get any work done today. Still, because my alarm clock is going off for the fourth time and I can sense that my significant other is about to hit me in the face with a pillow because our son has been crying for at least ten minutes I should probably get up and go to work anyway.