Mayhem of Snooze

You know those people whom jump out of bed, whistling, with total disregard for either sides of the bed? Zippedidoda zippediday... Well I'm the guy who wants to kill them all.

I can't stand happy in the morning. There's a time and place for everything, and the morning just isn't it. Happy should be a nighttime thing, accompanied by Glenfiddich and good music and God willing a beautiful woman, naked and drunk. Not a morning mist tearing up your eyes, while cycling to work in a herd of paycheck slaves doing the same to pay their mortgage. If this phenomenon brings about a good mood for you, you should search the motivation for it. I'm sure it's a routine forced artificial happiness brought about by the scarcity of possibilities of fleeing your fat, sexually unfulfilled,increasingly sagging wife , the IKEA house she picked and your materialistically spoiled but emotionally neglected, E.T. look alike children.

The rare occasions in which I have to wake up early for work usually leave a day long blood thirst in my mouth. A few employers ago, the epic battle to awake in a human like state in the morning, and go to work without committing a felon, was much more prominent then now, thank God. But still, gun control is a good thing.

It's mental masochism. Embracing the sweet endorphines of sleep, fighting the harsh reality of paycheck responsibilities. My bed is hugging me in a desperate plea not to leave it, but the countdown by snooze makes the reality of employee enslavement bare down on me like a jackhammer. The warm, womb like nest of covers cradle me, whispering sweet loving words of fake comfort in my ears:

'It's okay, if you skip the news and traffic is good, you've got at least 10 more minutes of warmth in here.'

When ever I have to get up early, this has become my routine. Ignoring my snooze 3 times already, skipping my coffee, a decent shower and breakfast. There is no way now that I'll be chipper some time soon today. So what the hell. Relying on the relentlessly annoying ringtone I appointed too the snooze alarm on my Nokia, I decide to risk it. Semi asleep I prolong my execution with 10 more minutes. And sure enough I dimmer of too a sweet dream in which I am waterboarding the guy that installed the snooze alarm on my Nokia with a 10 minute inter fall. After I've almost drowned him for the 4th time, subconsciously, I realize something's off... The fictitious euphoria from "not torturing" my evildoer American style, is killed by the abrupt realization that my alarm should have woken my from Guantanamo 30 minutes ago...

Seeing I am at least 20 minutes late for my shift of slavery, something even my adrenaline rush can't make up for, I figure it's time for coffee. Fuck em. Black, no sugar, no sweets, just strong hot coffee. On the couch in my undies.Turn on the news. Watching what drama has struck the world, while I was cradled by Johny Walker dreams.

And sure enough my phone rings:

"Hello? WTF? Why the hell are you calling me at this time in the morning? Don't you know it's not even seven thirty yet...? What? Wait, I said wait! Let me check..., nope I've got a late shift today. I got it right here! You sure? Did they change it again!? Goddammit! Well, okay, I'll be there in 30 minutes. No it's okay. Goodbye."

Oil addicted war in Iraq, famine in Sudan, corrupt politicians and worldwide economic crisis. The most recent horrors displayed for me. I get to watch it all, motionless, AND have coffee. The world is safe from my wrath and my co-workers will be thankful when I'll show up in 45 minutes. Not the worst morning I ever had. Just one of the benefits of being a bad, bad person.

Maybe that Nokia guy wasn't all bad.