Mornings are the worst. I always seem to find my initial waking state largely inhospitable. The fact that my alarm will only snooze ten times and then shut off is an issue I confront at least three times every morning.
I sleep with my travel alarm clock in my hands--I am a runner on a starting block; I am strung in elastic vigilance; I am waiting for a pistol shot. Three years of roommates necessitate such potential energy. On the same subject: though I do not have roommates at the moment, you don't forget how to ride a bike.
I found balance in keeping the morning peace amongst roommates while simultaneously feeding a snooze habit. Snap too fast, I'm liable to wake with a start, which, while useful, is less enjoyable than a well-planned, responsible oversleeping. Too slow, and I incite the ill will of my cohabiters.
I am amazed, bordering frightened, of the achievements of myself asleep. Passwords entered, complex menus navigated, hidden clocks found. Half-way, I fear that simply for the sake of poetic justice I will one day discover my resting self has been rising at night and deftly fighting against every cause I have steadfastly supported. I only fear it half way, because everything I know tells me there's no way I--or any variation of myself--would get out of bed, unless it was in an effort to secure more sleep.
Technically speaking, I have no right to be upset. It's always a premeditated, unprovoked attack on my part. Before I lie down I set a trap. When it goes off, I know I will win the inevitable war of attrition. Battle after battle, then eventually I persuade myself there is no option but to rise.
I fight for consciousness. The alarm clock is our war, and the snooze button is our Appomattox.
Strange, I struggle to surrender to sleep in the evenings then fight to pry it away eight hours later.
When I was a child, my mother would drop me off at Montessori school. Kicking and screaming, I did not wanting to leave her. In the evenings I tried with might and tears to stay at school as long as I could. (I think this an early manifestation of whatever it is that makes me late.)
There are some mornings I am forced to use techniques, which I consider to be in bad faith:
--I schedule important meetings, doctors appointments, etc, at hours I have no business being awake at. Even half asleep, I have the good senses not to sleep through something important.
--I go to sleep with the dryer running, knowing full well I would feel irresponsible if I didn't wake with enough time properly put the clothing away. (As a point of concession, I acknowledge that the clothing must be fluffed for at least 15 minutes--time enough for one more snooze cycle.)
--I set my coffee maker to start brewing coffee before I am awake. My frugality forces me to save enough time to drink it. As an aside: I enjoy my coffee warm, consequently, the time elapsed from carafe to empty cup is atypically long.
--I drink large quantities of water shortly before falling asleep. This has not resulted in bed wetting since I was in middle school and one time when I was drunk, but I believe the latter event to be an aberration from my norm.
--From time to time, I ask friends to set my clocks ahead a reasonable amount of time (2-25 minutes). I do this on the advice of Sun Tzu: "All warfare is based on deception. Therefore, when capable, feign incapacity; when active, inactivity. When near, make it appear that you are far away; when far away, that you are near."
--I have contemplated buying a "shake-awake" alarm clock. I think it may still be on my amazon.com wishlist, but I'm not sure about that.
--Most days I take showers that are unreasonably cold.
These tactics are not things I enjoy. Suffice it to say: if a simple bell did the trick, I would use it. It doesn't; I don't. Instead I rely on complex methods and calculated tactics. They serve me well, and I am forced to full mental acuity by the process. Perhaps the struggle is nothing more than the normal course of a boot cycle of my human mind.
A victory over oneself is subtle wisdom. Lessons learned: The battles I cannot win today I will win tomorrow, so long as I do not raise my flag to defeat. And the battles I don't win? At least defeat didn't come for lack of trying.
Instead, I start every day locked up tight in a test of wits and will, facing my only truly matched competitor, reminding my upright consciousness I'm racing no one but myself, and truth be told, we're on the same side.
Nice
Entertaining read.