Dear Darling Alarm Clock,
We both know that we have been struggling with getting along since we first began this dysfunctional relationship. I know I am a little harsh on you at times. I realize you are just trying to make sure that I am a responsible adult and that I make it to work on time each day to ensure a roof over our heads. I really can appreciate that but I am thinking maybe I should make some suggestions in order to have this process end a little less violently for the both of us. You see, screeching in my ear and suddenly waking me up in an extreme panic right in the middle of a dream where Gerald Butler has finally realized I am the love of his life AND is on one knee asking for my hand in marriage is definitely NOT the way I want to start my day. Maybe you should consider gently nudging my shoulder a few times and whispering “good morning sunshine, time to wake up” or tickling my ear with a feather and speaking to me in sexy Australian accent. Or hey, here is an idea , if you can’t do accents, how about you try releasing the smell of fresh cooked eggs and country ham. Least then, my inevitable disappointment would be delayed until the point I realized you didn’t actually cook eggs and Country ham. Your so called alarm has become as revolting to me as the loud squawking noise that comes blaring out of a hawk who is having his insides pulled out through his pooper hole with a set of rusty pliers and no lubrication. This is not real appealing or motivating my dear. You have to understand why this normally results in my body jolting into the air with complete panic and me violently attacking you with my right fist and then propelling you across the room. Not exactly the way either one of us would like to start our day. Wouldn’t you agree??
I have to hand it to you though, you are persistent – unearthly-Jason-Vorhees-from-Friday-the13th-persistent.…because just when I am comfortably asleep again and dreaming of having my little piggies (more like finger toes) massaged by Channing Tatum you rise from the dead to ruin my hot, sexy and much needed quality time with Tom Cruise (In my dreams, he’s still the sane version, you know, before he was jumping on couches and I realized that he is actually shorter than most fifth graders). You think I complain too much? How about we switch places for a day? You can get your lazy @ss up and do all my morning chores and drive your happy little @ss into the office and complete all my work for me there too. I will be more than happy to scream in your ear until you finally reluctantly come rolling off my nightstand, grumbling in some Portuguese language, walking into doorways because the sleepy junk has glued your “eyes” shut and trip your way into the shower. You might not be so loud and obnoxious then.
You can imagine why these morning events would be a little more peaceful and maybe enjoyable if you put some effort into our relationship. This is a two-way street, buddy. How about slowly allowing me to accept the fact that it is time for my work day to begin? I don’t want to hit you anymore and I am sure you are tired of constantly enduring the unmentionable names I shout at you every morning. A gentle word from you and I might just be in the mood to caress your snooze button instead of beating you into a digital carcass. Let’s make this an enjoyable experience. Please! Any suggestions from you are welcomed as well. Something other than “GET YOUR F*CKING @SS UP NOW B!TCH, TIME FOR WORK!” would be appreciated, you know that is just not working for me anymore. Maybe if you can be a little sweeter in the morning, then I might find myself dreaming of erotic steamy showers with you instead of Vin Diesel. This would probably make us both a little bit happier (well, not really).