And when the night is cloudy
So sometime during the night, my alarm clock bundled up into a blanket and fell into the space between the wall and the mattress, so when it went off it was too quiet to wake me but just barely loud enough so I could hear it.
I react adversely to alarms. I never remember it when I wake up later, but Mara tells me that when her phone alarm goes off in the morning, she has witnessed me "getting some serious air" in reaction to the noise, even though I don't actually wake up. I guess it's one thing if it's somebody else's alarm. I don't, for example, bust down the door in a blind panic when Erik's alarm starts going off. That is Somebody Else's problem. But if I set that alarm and it's going off and I can't get to it, god help us all.
I was in the midst of a dream when it started, and in the dream I knew there was some kind of alarm sounding, but I couldn't tell where it was coming from. I started slapping at things, in the dream, trying to shut off the sound, but nothing worked, no button would stop the beeping. It was just me, the noise, and the stupid plot of the dream that I don't really remember except for it being vaguely Rockford Files-y around the edges. I don't recall the story, and it wasn't important except for the fact that there was some kind of story and I had to play along with it like everybody else in the dream except there was this sound, this incessant, godawful, soul-grating alarm clock sound constantly buzzing in the background and it filled my ears and stopped my brain dead in its tracks, I couldn't think or speak or do anything except feel my skin crawl and pray, pray in my sleep for the noise to end OH GOD I'M IN HELL
Then I drifted close enough to the surface of consciousness to realize what was going on and dug the alarm out from the side of the bed.
Seriously, I can't handle that. I can't handle alarms. Whether it's the shriek of the teakettle or the relentless squawk of the clock, I have to make it stop as fast as I can or it will drive me mad. I think the fastest way to get me to break during interrogation would (for lack of a baseball bat and meaningful glances at my knees) be to lock me in a bare cell with a dummy alarm clock and pipe in the alarm noise and I would just be sitting there jabbing every button on the clock to make it stop but it wouldn't stop and I wouldn't know why and oh man, five minutes of that and I would tell anybody anything, please, just make it stop
I react adversely to alarms. I never remember it when I wake up later, but Mara tells me that when her phone alarm goes off in the morning, she has witnessed me "getting some serious air" in reaction to the noise, even though I don't actually wake up. I guess it's one thing if it's somebody else's alarm. I don't, for example, bust down the door in a blind panic when Erik's alarm starts going off. That is Somebody Else's problem. But if I set that alarm and it's going off and I can't get to it, god help us all.
I was in the midst of a dream when it started, and in the dream I knew there was some kind of alarm sounding, but I couldn't tell where it was coming from. I started slapping at things, in the dream, trying to shut off the sound, but nothing worked, no button would stop the beeping. It was just me, the noise, and the stupid plot of the dream that I don't really remember except for it being vaguely Rockford Files-y around the edges. I don't recall the story, and it wasn't important except for the fact that there was some kind of story and I had to play along with it like everybody else in the dream except there was this sound, this incessant, godawful, soul-grating alarm clock sound constantly buzzing in the background and it filled my ears and stopped my brain dead in its tracks, I couldn't think or speak or do anything except feel my skin crawl and pray, pray in my sleep for the noise to end OH GOD I'M IN HELL
Then I drifted close enough to the surface of consciousness to realize what was going on and dug the alarm out from the side of the bed.
Seriously, I can't handle that. I can't handle alarms. Whether it's the shriek of the teakettle or the relentless squawk of the clock, I have to make it stop as fast as I can or it will drive me mad. I think the fastest way to get me to break during interrogation would (for lack of a baseball bat and meaningful glances at my knees) be to lock me in a bare cell with a dummy alarm clock and pipe in the alarm noise and I would just be sitting there jabbing every button on the clock to make it stop but it wouldn't stop and I wouldn't know why and oh man, five minutes of that and I would tell anybody anything, please, just make it stop
posted by Betsi at 11:20 PM
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