Cheap Thrills

Rolling over to the buzz of a clock is commonplace for most of us. It is ingrained into us from an early age.  It's what we do.  It's what we live by.  The clock.

I never realized the relationship I had with my own alarm clock until I was unemployed.  When I think back to my working days, I can recall cursing the ominous click before the blare of the radio flooded the bedroom in the wee hours of the morning.  Ugh. Another day on planet earth.  Time to get up and do it all over again. Each day the same scenario would go through my head as I hit the snooze button.  "OK. I'm only going to hit it once.  Then I'm going to get up and get going. I can't be late. I will feel better about myself if I just get up now.  I have to get up anyway, so why not be early? Why not get ready at a leisurely pace?" By the time the thoughts had completed their cycle of running through my head, the radio would be back on, chattering about the latest world crisis.  Smack! I'd hit the snooze button once again.  This would go on and on.  Like a game I would challenge the clock to tempt me again and again until I was in a state of living on the edge, just breaths away from the very last possible minute I could get up, get showered, ready and be out the door, and still be on time. Click...Smack, click.. smack, click...smack! Click!  Awwwk...it's late!  I overslept! In a panicked frenzy I would leap from the bed, run to the bathroom, jump into the shower, toothbrush in hand, and start my morning routine. Cursing myself for getting into this position, once again, I would question my own underlying motives. Out of the shower and into the bedroom, the dressing crisis would begin.  Awwwk!  I still need to dry my hair!  I would dress, do the hair and grab my makeup bag.  Out the door I would run and inevitably there would be frost on my car's windshield that required scraping.  After much ado with the preparation of the windshield, I would begin my commute, putting on my makeup at each stoplight and down straight stretches of the freeway.  Amazingly, I would cruise in the office door, dressed, together and ready for my day, on average, 17 minutes early.

These days I get my cheap thrills exactly the way they sound; cheap.  Since I am on a budget of sorts, I find the simplest things give me the greatest pleasure.  I like to set my alarm for 5:30 am and when it goes into its habitual click mode, I roll over, by-pass smacking the snooze button and give it a click right back, turning it off.  I roll over and I smile. Ahhh to awaken when I feel like it.  It brings me great joy.

I'm wondering if,  when I return to the workplace, I will once again resume the dysfunctional relationship with my clock and the dangerous habit of applying makeup while driving, or if I will count my blessings, knowing  that I was given the cheap thrill of awakening at my leisure, day after day, for several months on end.