The Nuts Are Running The Squirrel House

I found something the other day that surprised and fascinated me: my clock radio keeps a journal.  After unplugging his cord and picking him up to dust, I noticed a tiny notebook on my nightstand.  I’m not ashamed to admit that it took some squinting to read it, but the entries I found shed some light on some mysterious goings-on in my apartment.  I’ll start with some entries from earlier this year:

January 2, 2007

Today started off the same as ever.  Right at 6:15 I turned on the radio.  I was hoping this was the year the tall pasty bed-filler would learn to get up at the actual time that she set me.  Ha.  Up went the hand.  Down came the hand.  Right on my snooze button.  I wouldn’t have minded if she only did this a few times.  But no, every nine freaking minutes.  6:15.  6:24.  6:33.  6:42.  6:51.  7:00.  7:09.  Oh, and I have TWO alarms.  So the other alarm, set at 6:20, went off every nine minutes as well.  I may as well work for a pimp if I’m going to get slapped this much.

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January 10, 2007

The new year started less than two weeks ago, and already I’m praying for another holiday.  Anything to make the tall pasty bed-filler sleep in and stop the ritual morning snooze beatings.  I’m starting to develop a deep plastic bruise.  Heck, I have to wear long sleeves to stop the lamp from asking questions.  Something must be done.

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January 12, 2007

Today I short-sheeted the  bed.  This was especially alarming to the tall pasty bed-filler, as she lives alone.

P.S. Due to the carpal cordal syndrome I am developing, I will from now on refer to the tall pasty bed-filler as the TPBF.

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January 16, 2007

The TPBF usually has my radio dial set on Star 105.7, a light rock station.  Hoping to avoid a prolonged snoozefest today, I discretely changed the channel to a local industrial/acid rock station, sure to jolt the TPBF into immediate consciousness.

That was the hardest I’ve ever been hit in my life.  The TPBF regained enough consciousness to want to stop the noise, but not enough to want to get up.  Not only does my snooze button still smart, but there is also a me-shaped dent in the wall nearest to the nightstand.  I even came unplugged (but thanks to my battery backup, I kept perfect time).

While she was at work, I sought revenge by stuffing the TPBF’s own dirty socks into her pillowcase.

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January 17, 2007 

The TPBF woke up 6 times last night, sniffing, mumbling, then falling back asleep, only to wake up a few minutes later from the smell of her own putrid foot covers.  I must remember this for future acts of revenge.

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January 25, 2007

After a nap yesterday in which the TPBF repeatedly hit the snooze to avoid getting up and running errands, I decided that  I must escalate my tactics to include physical harm.  Later that night after the TPBF went to bed, I switched my cord from the outlet next to the nightstand to the a different outlet that let my cord hang low, just next to the bed.  As predicted, the TPBF woke up (after 14 snoozes!  14!), stood up, tripped over the cord and fell (along with the lamp - sorry lamp) into a pile of dirty socks in front of the closet.  Then, like a glorious flourish of frosting on a well-baked cupcake, the towel drying on the closet door handle fell over her head, making her effort to get up off the floor all that more entertaining.  She said a lot of special words this morning.

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February 5, 2007

The more I watch the TPBF, the more I feel bad for the cord-tripping incident.  Good grief, she trips enough as it is.  In the past week, I’ve seen her trip over a shoe, her hairdryer, a stack of books, and even once where she tripped, but over nothing–she just didn’t lift her foot high enough.  And this doesn’t even cover the places I can’t see from my nightstand.  I’ve heard her trip in the kitchen, the living room, the front door, and twice getting out of the bathtub.  I almost feel sorry for her.

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February 21, 2007

It’s been over two weeks, and my sympathy for the TPBF is wearing off.  This morning, I turned on at the right time.  She opened her eyes and LOOKED RIGHT AT ME!  She was awake and alert, and she STILL hit the snooze!  YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN UP AND HAD A CASUAL BREAKFAST!  OR AT LEAST TAKEN YOUR TIME WHEN TRIPPING OVER THINGS!  But no, the TPBF hit the snooze and stayed in bed, just sitting there like a fresh turd.  The lamp and I made a deal.  After the eighth snooze tomorrow, she’s getting a lightbulb to the face.

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February 22, 2007 

What a letdown.  It took all three of the lamp’s lightbulbs to even make her twitch.  The confused look on her face was only a minor consolation.

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February 24, 2007

My life has been turned upside-down.  Today, after waking up late, but early enough to get to work on time, the TPBF uttered the words that still warm me.  She said to herself, “I’m so glad I got that alarm clock.”  And can it be?  Words of appreciation?  What is this strange new glow?  Can it be satisfaction?  I can live out the rest of my days in peace knowing that this snooze-abusing being values me.

UPDATE: Later on today, I got bored, so I short-sheeted the TPBF’s bed again.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, February 27th, 2007 at 3:53 pm and is filed under Have A Laugh. You can follow responses to this entry through the Comments RSS Feed. You can leave a response or trackback from your site.