Rest in peace, old friend.

This morning, my alarm clock died. It didn't technically die. Its non-performance told me, however, that the time was nigh. Well, not so much "non-performance" as "over-performance." It was not set to wake me up when it did. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but I think that my wakeup time is a call that I should be making. When an electrical device starts disobeying direct orders, well, we've all seen Robocop*.

I have owned this clock radio for more than half my life. I got it as a result of having destroyed my previous clock radio with static electricity**. I lost my virginity to the calm, blue light it gave off. It woke me up for every day of work of every job I have ever had (at which point I would hit the snooze button with such savage fury that I nearly felt like a man).

I can't believe it. First the pope, now this.

But I have to end it. I know it wouldn't want to be a burden. And when an alarm clock doesn't, you know, alarm you when you ask it to…well, it becomes less of an alarm clock and more of an electric brick.

Goodbye, alarm clock. I only hope your predecessor can be as functional and emotionally meaningless to me as you have been. And by 'predecessor' I mean the opposite of predecessor***.


*Which is totally cool. I mean, we're all going to die somehow. If it could be in a robot attack as opposed to in a nursing home, then hey, bring on the 'bots. But this situation wasn't so much 'apocalyptic' as 'annoying.'

**I accidentally learned one day that if I wore certain slippers and walked across the rug, touching that clock radio would zap it with enough electricity to turn on the radio. And after about 1,000 times, it fried the circuits. Now, that was FUN!

***Obviously, I was awakened a little earlier than I had planned to be and I am having language problems as a result. Just one more reason to pull the plug. Sorry, Congress!