Goodbye to Dreamworld
Just as Tony the Tiger and Scarlett Johansson were about to show me how to make a crème brûlée in my Mema’s kitchen, a shrieking alarm punched me in the face. When I came to, an irritating pitch was sounding off downstairs, filling the whole house with EENK-EENK-EENK-EENK! Before jumping out of bed, I did the traditional suddenly-awoken-and-confused conversation with myself.
We’re in danger!
No, we’re not. Go back to sleep.
Yes we are! That’s a fire alarm or something. We should freak out.
Settle down, buddy — that’s not the sound the fire alarms make.
I think you’re right. Hey, let’s eat a frozen burrito for breakfast today.
You always have the best ideas, Me.
I turned to look at the alarm clock next to the bed: 5:15 am. Crap, just long enough before my wakeup time that it wasn’t worth it to try to go back to sleep. Or was it? I remember my man Tony showing me something, and it had to do with Mema’s kitchen… what was it? I could probably sneak back into Dreamworld if I could just hurry back out of this one.
I turned over and shook the wife — “Hey, get up, I think the house is on fire. Go check it out.” She pulled the covers up and said through muffled fabric “That’s your cell phone, you go get it.” I shook her again, but this time she just growled, and then the dog lying at our feet growled at me too. Dreamworld would have to go on without me.
I went downstairs, squinting my eyes as I sought out the EENK-EENK-EENK-EENK noise. I’m not sure why I instinctively squint my eyes with loud noises — I also turn down the car radio when I’m looking for a street address. Apparently the visual and auditory portions of my brain do not work simultaneously.
When I found the source, imagine how peeved I was — It was the wife’s cell phone alarm! I pushed random buttons until it stopped, stormed back up the stairs, called her a “big dummy” , bounced her phone off her rear, and went back to sleep. The dog growled at me again.
For the next 30 minutes, I slept restlessly, dreaming about alarm clocks, until my wife shook me awake. What now?!? I still had 30 minutes of sweet, sweet sleep until I had to get up. She was holding our baby and nudging me. She said “I’ve been trying to wake her up to play with you but she’s really crashed out.” I barked at her “Of course she is! Even at three months old, she realizes it’s dark outside! Begone, woman!” As I drifted off into angry slumber, the dog jumped off the bed to finish her Doggie Dreamworld elsewhere in the house.
I blinked my eyes and it was 7:15, the time I normally leave for work. After cursing alarm clocks all morning, I found I suddenly missed mine when it didn’t go off! This meant that for me to get to work by 8 am, I’d have to skip breakfast and start off today with questionable hygiene habits. I compromised and did the 4-minute shower version, just the pits and bits.
After some driving behavior that I wouldn’t be proud to repeat here, I barely made it to work on time. Walking into the building, a forgotten voice reminded me where my morning went all wrong:
Hey! Where’s my damn burrito?