It has a name: the alarm clock. It’s the worst way of getting up. A taskmaster with a whip, the alarm clock destroys the natural rhythm of waking and cracks open the world in a most unsavory way. I surrender to its first note and for the rest of the day I’m a slave of time.
Sometimes my rebellious nature makes me turn the damn thing off and goes back to bed. Under the cover I drift back to sleep (at least half consciously). With enough time lapsed I can pretend that I have a will of my own before swinging my feet down onto the floor. Of course then everything is approached with a great rush.
I remember in college the alarm clocks went off at the dorm rooms starting at 5:30 in the morning. The cacophony of wake-me-ups wound up our little robotic brains as we went here and there and worked till we dropped, until the next morning.
