Hello to all banjos in the Appalachian mountains, broken guitar strings, and badly insulated walls.
I don’t know how you usually wake up in the morning– but I usually wake up, roll over, go back to sleep, wake up, pull the blanket over my head, go back to sleep, always trying to dredge out as many minutes of happy, soothing sleep as I possibly can before it’s inevitably time to wake up for good. Well, this morning my iPod had other ideas.
I thought I’d turned it off the night before, but by some wicked fluke, I must’ve just slept it instead. So, during my dream of walking through a big, empty, sunny forest, I got interrupted by a curious little sound. I didn’t know what it was at first. I tried to ignore it. The forest scene was still really pleasant, and I’m pretty sure– I’m almost positive– that Will from the Infernal Devices (see: silly fantasy series) was waiting around the next tree. The dream basically sang a beautiful, promising chorus of dreamy fantasy heroes and warm summer afternoons, but there was still that little sound. Inevitably, it ruined my dream completely. I pulled my iPod out of my pocket, and I realized the alarm was going. By this time, Will was gone, disappeared from my subconscious completely, and I was trying to turn off the alarm, poking angrily at the snooze button on the screen. My math teacher appeared, and inquired if I could try and turn it off, since class was starting. I continued to jam my finger at the snooze button, but the alarm was still going, a little bright-sounding harp riff that couldn’t have possibly been more annoying. I went into the clock settings, and flicked the alarm to off, but it kept going– naturally. By this time I was at a loss. I tried to turn the iPod off, and it went off sure enough, but that darned alarm was still going. A boy from my math class suggested I throw it out the window. We tried, but the window wouldn’t open, which isn’t much of a surprise really.
Eventually, I woke up, and found that my iPod had been going off for twenty minutes. But the fun didn’t stop there. I groped out for it, where it sat on the box a couple feet away, but I couldn’t actually reach it. So, sick and coughing and helpless, I flung my arm at it a few more times, before I realized it was just plain too far away. I rolled back under the covers and pulled them over my head. I stuffed my hand in my ear. I wanted to cry.
Eventually, my dad came in, apologizing for coming in so early and saying he was going to take my sister out somewhere. I said brokenly, “Turn the iPod off!” It came out a cough of despair. But he didn’t know how, so I rolled over, made a mad lunge for the thing, and pressed the snooze button. With a passion.
So, this is how I woke up this morning. Not the best way to wake up, especially when you’re sick and you’ve been up much too late reading Percy Jackson. The good news is I’ve had a breakthrough: the idea of an app that helps you get up in the morning– gently. Slowly. Kindly. Not like the incessant harp-riff ear-torture that is my current wake-up device.
The idea is the app gently rouses you from your slumber: for instance, it slides the curtains open for you somehow, but slowly, so the light doesn’t come in all at once. And then it opens the window just a little bit to let in the cool morning air– and then, it puts the radio on– very quietly, of course– to a classical station. Then it suggests in the voice of a kindly grandmother that it’s time to wake up, but you can take your time, of course. To finish the process, it somehow puts the smell of pancakes into the air to give you the incentive to actually get up.
It’s just an idea, but– BY GOD, CALL APPLE. PLEASE.
Anyway. Now that I’m up and it’s eleven thirty, there’s no point in trying to fall back asleep. But tonight I am not going to leave my iPod on, and as an added precaution, I’m going to delete the alarm and keep it in my backpack. That should be enough.
Yours tiredly, sickily, and truly, Onceabasementdog.