The Sands, Digits, and Hands of Time

Well, not sands. The only hourglass I have isn't a fancy one like on the beginning of "Days of Our Lives," it's a little plastic one that came with my play-at-home version of "The $25,000 Pyramid."

Tonight's blog is something of a request. Someone suggested to me that it might be interesting for me to tell all of you kind folks about my clocks. Now, I personally don't think of this as interesting in the least, because I really don't feel I'm all so special in this regard. This could be a mistake on my part, and if it is it's probably one of about 177 I've already made this week, and it's only Tuesday.

I mean, we all have clocks in our houses, right? Well, I do too. And so I feel very normal, time-wise.

I have, in the dennette, the clock on my computer, and the clock on my TV cable box. They're perfectly in sync (or is that *NSync), with the time just what it's supposed to be, because computers are very good about that sort of thing. I currently have no clocks in my kitchen, because every time the power goes off it fucks with the clock on my stove, and I got so tired of resetting it I just quit doing so. (And this makes me one very lazy individual indeed, tired of pushing two buttons to get the correct time.)

Upon walking into my living room one would see no clocks to speak of, other than the ones on my TV cable box and VCR. Now, by the way, cable boxes have very good timing, because the cable people want me to know exactly what time my favorite TV shows come on, and, like the computer, they even automatically change my time with Daylight Savings Time and Daylight Non-Savings Time. However, I keep the clock on my VCR five minutes ahead of where it should be. This is so when I set my timer to record something while I'm away I shall get full value of my program and not risk cutting off its beginning. Do not ask me why I don't just set my timer to come on a few minutes earlier, for I do not know. I like it the way it is; it makes me happy. (Sorry, Mr Vonnegut - I used a semicolon.)

No clocks in the bathroom, and personally, I feel that anyone who has a clock in the bathroom is just asking for trouble. Because we all know the bathroom is where time stands still, and one should never be in a hurry there. The bathroom is for relaxation.

In the spare bedroom, aka The Beast (even though it's in fine order and not messy at all right now), I have one clock. This is the adorable purse clock my friend ESP made for me. See, the spare bedroom is also my "put on my face and fix my hair" area, and I have a little table and chair where I sit while doing so. So the clock being in there is a perfect fit, it's right there above my make-up table, all girly-like (even though I'm not, but I do wear make-up and occasionally fix my hair), and it tells me every morning while I'm putting myself together how late I'm going to be for work each morning. I like knowing this, and have a real sense of accomplishment when I sit down at my little table and look up to find that I'm right on time at 10 minutes late.

And then - there's my bedroom. The Mantrap, as you all have named it, a joke that makes me laugh and laugh and laugh.

I have a total of five clocks in my bedroom. One's on the VCR, and it's never set, so we'll just forget about that one and pretend I never mentioned it, OK? Then right above the VCR I have my cable box clock, which of course is always right on time, because the cable people know that even when one is in bed one needs to know exactly what time one's favorite shows come on.

Then I have the three alarm clocks. See, I used to have two alarm clocks, but somehow that just wasn't enough for me. Because to me, alarm clocks are just innocuous little things, mere trifles to not be paid that much attention to, and I need an alarm system like George Jetson had. If you'll recall, when George's alarm went off, his bed automatically pulled back into the wall, dropping poor Mr Jetson into the floor. This still didn't wake him up, as it wouldn't me, I fear, and so a hook came down from the ceiling and lifted him into the shower, where he still snoozed, then took him into the closet and dressed him, and sent him on his way. When they come out with one of those, I don't care if it costs $100,000, I'm getting it.

So anyway, I have three alarm clocks now, because three alarms are always better than two, and four might even be better and I'm definitely considering it.

The first alarm clock is a little digital by my bed. It has the snooze button. I like the snooze button, even though it's a bit like heroin. You know, lethal, but addictive. This clock is set 23 minutes ahead of the cable box, or "real time." When it's 7:00am, my bedside digital tells me it's 7:23.

The second alarm clock is way over (well, in The Mantrap nothing's "way over" because it's an exceedingly small room) on the baker's rack on the opposite wall from my bed. It's a digital, and is so fancy that for some reason you can set two alarms with it. I guess it's for the married doctor who rises at dawn and his trophy wife who sleeps till noon or till she falls out of bed onto her Yorkshire terrier, whichever comes first. I placed this alarm where I did because I read somewhere what a capital idea it was, and how no one could ever oversleep with an alarm clock across the room, for you see, one has to actually get out of bed to turn off the alarm. Apparently the person who wrote that little ditty did not 1) have a bedroom as small as The Mantrap, where you can lean on the edge of the bed on your knee and turn off the alarm, and/or 2) realize how easy it is to get up, turn off the alarm, get back into bed, and go to sleep. In keeping with DAT, or digital alarm time, in my house, this clock is also set 23 minutes ahead of real time. So at 7:00am, it says, "Bet, it's 7:23."

I got a clock a couple of years ago as a Christmas present from my cousin Jacob, whose Christmas presents from 2004 I still have sitting in The Beast, and I didn't buy her any presents in 2005 because she didn't care enough about the 2004 edition to ever pick them up. If she comes to get some in 2006, I'll hand her 2004's, provided the gift wrap hasn't molded by then. Anyway, this is a cute little battery-powered mod number, orange and groovy, and it has hands and an actual bell alarm that rings and rings until you turn it off or the battery runs out. I know this because it happened to me once. Mr Mod Clock sits on the nightstand, on the opposite side of the bed from digital alarm #1.

Since Mr Mod Clock doesn't have a snooze, I set him in accordance with TV Cable, or "real," time. So at 7:00am, this clock says, by damn, it's 7:00. And I had a very distinct reason for doing this, in case you're wondering, which I'm sure you're not, because this is all still quite normal, right?

All right. Now, the digital alarm clock across the room on the baker's rack, the alarm on it is set for 7:20am. And so it goes off every morning like clockwork, if you'll pardon a really bad pun, right when the clock hits 7:20. Only it's really not 7:20, it's actually 6:57. Because that clock is 23 minutes ahead of schedule. And when that alarm goes off, the one that's supposed to ensure that I get out of bed like a soldier and get on with the day, I either get up or scramble to the
edge of the bed and turn it off. And I turn on the TV. And generally fall back asleep.

The digital alarm by my bed is set to go off at 7:49. That's basically 10 till 8, I guess it was too much trouble to push the minute button that one extra time, and this clock goes off just like God intended every morning when that clock hits 7:49. Only it's not really 7:49, it's actually 7:26. When this alarm goes off I hit the snooze button, and usually get up and turn on my bedroom light. Because.... Well, because it's just what I do, OK? Then I go back to bed and laze around, watching TV and dipping in and out of the Twilight Zone, that wonderful area where one is not quite asleep and not quite awake. And I hit the snooze button every nine minutes when it goes off.

I do that until Mr Mod Clock, on the other side of my bed, goes off. His alarm is set at 7:50, and it goes off every single morning at 7:50. Which is actually 7:50, because he's set by TV cable, or "real," time. And remember, Mr Mod has no snooze, what with his 20th Century hands and all, and so I have to turn him off by the switch on his back. And this is why Mr Mod is set at real time. Because I know when he goes off, it is in fact 7:50, and I have 1 hour and 10 minutes until 9:00am, and I'd better get my sorry ass out of bed.

And sometimes I actually do. Then again, I'm me, and sometimes I don't. Sometimes I sit up in bed with a blank look on my face until about 8:15am real time, which is also 8:38am digital clock by the bed and across the room time, and when that happens, I know I'm pretty much screwed. I'm not overly high-maintenance in the getting ready for work department, but 45 minutes to a timely work arrival is just not in my vocabulary. (By the way, I live about a 2 minute's drive away from work, so commuting time is not a factor.)

Which poses the question. A fourth alarm clock. Necessary? Viable? Useless? Of course it would be useless, didn't you just read any or all of the above? The only thing that's going to get me up and going and on time is the George Jetson disappearing bed and hook.

And that's really the only area to which I'll readily admit being a little off the beam. The whole clock times and alarm settings, well, I think that is completely and totally normal. And I'll fight anyone who says otherwise.

As soon as I can get out of bed.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Acrowinners, we have acrowinners. So, what do you all do on a hellish Monday?
- Honorable Mention goes to Flipsycab, with her "Binge drinking delirium. Pass out." Flips would get along well with the acrobasket.
- Runner-up goes to Kellie, with her "Buying Double-Dipped Parfaits. Outstanding."
- And this week's winner goes to DeepFatFriar, with his very hellish Monday "Bagging dried dog poop outside." Friar, take Monday off.
- Thanks to all who played - you've all done very well!