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Does Anybody Know
As I fumble around for the snooze switch (that's the button on your alarm clock that lets you sleep for another 10 seconds before it starts buzzing again) my mind starts working furiously to remember if I have reset it. And if I did, was it in the right direction? Right now I don't have a clue as to what that should be. My mind keeps telling me that it should be "skip ahead." But that would mean setting the clock ahead two hours wouldn't it? Or is it "fall behind?" No that's the story of my life; that and "fall out of bed." But it's really no use trying to remember. At this time of the morning, as far as my brain is concerned, it is the beginning of all eternity. It literally IS the first day of the rest of my life, because I haven't a clue as to what happened to me yesterday, or any day before that. This does not get much better as the day goes on either. Maybe if I turn on the radio it would give me a clue. But before I try to find the radio, I need to open my eyes again and I have totally lost track of where THEY are. Of course they are right where they should be, on the front of my head, but ... Anyway, how do I know that Charlie Kilkenny reset HIS clock? I don't. As my brain continues the slow process of changing over from marshmallows to actual working neurons it occurs to me that my cats, Pogo and Churchy should provide a clue. They always get hungry at 4:30 a.m. EST. So that means that ...uh ... if it's not yet uh, then it's probably, wait a minute now, uh, let's see, if it's not 4:30 standard time then daylight time should be one hour earlier, or at least the cats think it's one hour earlier than they think it really is or, no, that can't be right either. This line of reasoning leads me to the conclusion that it's noon. I am tempted to accept this conclusion because it means that I am REALLY late for work and might as well call in either sick or stupid. If it's really that late, I'm probably better off calling in stupid. "Hi, this is George. I'm not coming in today because I woke up really stupid this morning." Yeah, They'll buy that. Now where's the phone? NEXT WEEK: "Yes, I really was abducted by space aliens.
I even got pictures and names." George Breithaupt is a photographer, copy editor and weekly columnist for the Mount Vernon News. This column was faxed to us. He still hasn't shown up for work. This week's column is a little better than his usual stuff so maybe one of the aliens wrote it for him. It has us seriously thinking about starting a "Grumpy Gnxrnrnian" column next week. |
It's Monday morning, the first morning of Daylight
Savings Time. My alarm clock says 5:30. You can fool my eyes but you can't
fool my body. I KNOW it's really 4:30. Or is it? I don't really have very
many clocks to reset. The clock in the kitchen needs a new battery and
is probably showing what time it is in Ireland, Bill Gates resets my computer,
and my wrist watch has so many buttons, it would take me until next fall
to reset. My VCR keeps trying to tell me it's noon, noon, noon (or maybe
midnight, midnight, midnight ...) and somewhere in my house there's a
little digital timer of some sort that beeps on the hour, but not long
enough for me to ever find it. That leaves my alarm clock as the only
timepiece that I am responsible for resetting.