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Merrrrgggh
Feb. 11th, 2004 11:23 amI don't know if people realize this (although how could you not?), but I am NOT a morning person.
Becoming the alert, intellectual, coherent student most people at school are used to takes time, in the form of multiple alarm clocks.
I set my watch alarms (5 of them) to go off at relatively regular intervals over the course of an hour. I set my radio alarm to go off every nine minutes for about a half an hour. And I set my aunt's old college alarm clock (one volume setting, no waiting) to go off about fifteen minutes before I ABSOLUTELY MUST get up.
Wakes me up real well, this system.
It is a finely-tuned instrument.
I depend upon it.
So why? Why, oh why, does it let me down?!?
If I forget even ONE of the aforementioned alarms, I sleep through the rest of them. And it's not like I can just rise to consciousness of my own will because of some mystical internal clock. Because, as I mentioned, I am not a morning person.
I had an 8:30 a.m. class today. This means, if I have taken a shower the night before, that I must get up at 7:45 in order to have adequate time to get ready for the 8:15 shuttle down to the main campus.
So my alarms start going off at 6:45.
If I've had a long night, sometimes I start the alarms at 7:00 instead, to give myself the illusion of an extra hour (I'm waking up at 7 instead of 6! Yay!).
But regardless, those puppies start their dance nice and early, slowly coaxing my conscious mind to the surface, drawing it inexorably through the cloudy, inviting expanse of Dreamland.
Unless.
Unless someone (*cough-me-cough*) forgets to set one of the alarms.
She turns off the earliest watch alarms. "Plenty of time... Zzzzzz."
She turns of the unbelievably loud (and scary) old-fashioned alarm. "Still have a bit of time... *burrows under covers*"
And then proceeds to sleep through her first class.
And awakens to discover she has FIVE MINUTES to get ready before the shuttle leaves for her next class.
So she crawls out of bed, stumbles around frantically, throws on clothes, jams a toothbrush in her mouth, splashes water on her face, snatches a comb for later, grabs her bookbag, and hurls herself out the door, down the stairs, and out into the harsh, unforgiving morning light.
Wow. Exhaustion = melodramatic Allison.
Huh.
Back to work!
Becoming the alert, intellectual, coherent student most people at school are used to takes time, in the form of multiple alarm clocks.
I set my watch alarms (5 of them) to go off at relatively regular intervals over the course of an hour. I set my radio alarm to go off every nine minutes for about a half an hour. And I set my aunt's old college alarm clock (one volume setting, no waiting) to go off about fifteen minutes before I ABSOLUTELY MUST get up.
Wakes me up real well, this system.
It is a finely-tuned instrument.
I depend upon it.
So why? Why, oh why, does it let me down?!?
If I forget even ONE of the aforementioned alarms, I sleep through the rest of them. And it's not like I can just rise to consciousness of my own will because of some mystical internal clock. Because, as I mentioned, I am not a morning person.
I had an 8:30 a.m. class today. This means, if I have taken a shower the night before, that I must get up at 7:45 in order to have adequate time to get ready for the 8:15 shuttle down to the main campus.
So my alarms start going off at 6:45.
If I've had a long night, sometimes I start the alarms at 7:00 instead, to give myself the illusion of an extra hour (I'm waking up at 7 instead of 6! Yay!).
But regardless, those puppies start their dance nice and early, slowly coaxing my conscious mind to the surface, drawing it inexorably through the cloudy, inviting expanse of Dreamland.
Unless.
Unless someone (*cough-me-cough*) forgets to set one of the alarms.
She turns off the earliest watch alarms. "Plenty of time... Zzzzzz."
She turns of the unbelievably loud (and scary) old-fashioned alarm. "Still have a bit of time... *burrows under covers*"
And then proceeds to sleep through her first class.
And awakens to discover she has FIVE MINUTES to get ready before the shuttle leaves for her next class.
So she crawls out of bed, stumbles around frantically, throws on clothes, jams a toothbrush in her mouth, splashes water on her face, snatches a comb for later, grabs her bookbag, and hurls herself out the door, down the stairs, and out into the harsh, unforgiving morning light.
Wow. Exhaustion = melodramatic Allison.
Huh.
Back to work!
