If ever I could make a case for getting an old school alarm clock with the obnoxious little hammers striking a loud bell, this is it. So I can have the satisfaction of crushing it and launching it across the room.
I do not know why, on my day off, the alarm is set for an odious six o’clock wake up. Well, I do, actually — so I can get up and write.
The truth is, I roll over and go back to sleep until the sun wakes me.
Except today. Today, my iPhone alarm, set to some terrible rhythmic tones, went off at the ill-advised time just as it’s supposed to do, and I slept right through it for 15 minutes. Fifteen minutes!
Instead of waking me, it made its way into my dream, which, for reasons I cannot fathom, was taking place in my church, during Mass. So naturally, the phone went off and I scrambled to turn it off. Don’t we all? But it wasn’t my phone, so I indulged a judgy moment of looking around. That was entertaining. I was sitting next to two Mormom missionaries, and behind a very large man with big hair who was annoyed at me. You know, the usual crowd at Mass.
It didn’t end there. The sacristan (this is of special note since we don’t, to my knowledge, have a sacristan in the traditional sense, and certainly not an appointed one like “the sacristan” implies.
Anyway, the sacristan exits the sacristy (what else?) waving a ringing phone that he then silences as a kind of demonstration.
Shortly after, bacon candy falls from heaven. I’m just going to note, this happened, and move back to the phone.
At that point, the ringing iPhone was making me crazy in the dream, so I left, running away from the ringing phone to the safety of my car. As soon as I started the car, the phone rings. Again. Finally, I answer it. It’s my former principal, calling to shoot the breeze.
At this point, I totally lose it in my dream and wake up to a moment of irritation as my senses process that the alarm is going off.
I am displeased. Immensely.
But look, I got up and wrote something!
And now, I’m going back to sleep.