Flashes of Panic

There are two wake-up alarms by my bed. The first is a clock radio, which can be set to play at any hour. The second, somewhat more complex alarm is striped, with claws and teeth, and starts trying to wake me up when (1) he’s hungry, and (2) there’s a hint of light in the sky.

While the first alarm is limited to what noises are available on the radio (I set it to NPR since radio “morning shows” tend to set my teeth on edge too early in the morning,) it does have a predictable “snooze” button.

The striped alarm has a wide range of stimulation modes, both audio (from meows to purrs) and tactile (licking my face, pouncing on my feet, gently biting anything sticking out from under the covers.) This morning I dreamed there were crickets in my room, but they were red, only slightly smaller than shoes, had claws like lobsters, and would nip my legs at the slightest provocation. Once I woke up I realized the “crickets” were a combination of birds chirping outside, the alarm pouncing on my legs with claws through the quilt, and… I don’t know what the visual was, and I’m not sure I want to.

The striped alarm’s “snooze” function has three modes. One is a “soft” snooze which involves removing the alarm from the bed. This snooze has a variable (and apparently random) duration from five seconds to half an hour, and ends with a resumption of alarm activity. The “hard” snooze, which is generally invoked if the alarm sounds particularly early in the morning or refuses to respond to the “soft” snooze, involves closing the alarm in its carrier. The alarm is then restricted to audio function. The “long-term” snooze involves feeding the alarm, and has a duration of several hours, though the alarm may provide audio function in the purring range afterward, depending on the timing of the clock radio alarm.

Now playing: Androgynous from Let It Be by The Replacements