Alright. You might wonder why I have two clocks by my bed. I actually have three, or rather, I had three. One of the clocks has been retired to the bottom drawer of my dresser. The two clocks is the last vestige of my corporate days.

One of my worst habits, at least professionally — well actually there are a lot — my unwillingness to accept authority, my abundant smoke breaks, my inability to take very much very seriously, my perfect willingness to admit all of this in a job interview —, but one of my worst habits, at least professionally, is my likelihood of sleeping in. Even when I had a day job it was very difficult to curb my more natural nocturnal habits. And, very often I would wake up, say, at 11 am when I was supposed to be at work at 8:30.

Sadly, I also hate being late. I wake up with a start. Why is the sun so bright? Is it Saturday? And then I’m all aflutter and I try to do things too fast like shower or get dressed or fill my flask (I jest) and of course it all goes wrong and it just takes longer than a regular day. I’ve trained myself not to panic so much. I’m already late — what’s the difference of 10 or 15 minutes more?

That’s when I bought two clocks. But my sleeping self is very talented evidently. I could still manage to turn off the radio clock, still manage to slap the button down on the second clock and go back to sleep.

That’s when I bought three clocks. And I would stagger the first two alarms ten minutes apart and then set up the third at the latest possible time. When that too failed I set them all up around the apartment, the third clock the farthest away. That nearly always worked.

But now I don’t have to worry about it so much. Although sometimes I still set the alarm. It’s nice to start a day out early just because. Still, if I’m up at 6 am it’s a lot more likely that I haven’t yet been to bed.

SS