The clock says what?

A short post on alarm clocks, and the general aggro they bring to all our lives.

I have recently returned from a couple months annual leave (all play and pay, no work - Oh, the Horror...).

When I got back (from overseas) my old alarm clock had died. A cheesy fire-stained one I inherited from my sister after she stole my radio-clock. It had given up the proverbial ghost. Permanently. Only use left for it now was as a modern-day morning-star of sorts.

So I scraped myself out of bed in the mornings for a whole month with nothing to aid me but Healthy Living (ha!) and the alarm on my watch.

Needless to say, I sleep in when the hand containing it is under the pillow.

It gets worse though - I buy a new alarm clock (egh - a story in itself) and now I have a new problem. My housemate has had Tuesday off for many, many years. In my absence, she has changed to Wednesday - you see the conflict already, right?

Yep, sure enough, last week I tried to get her out of bed to go to work on her Day Off. Ooh, was I in trouble. (I found my car eventually.)

But Karma got me. Didn't turn my new alarm off for the next day (my day off). Bummer.

Nor the next week - this is getting silly. Also, (I briefly thought I had to wake Someone Else in the house up - again.)

I await an improvement in matters.