I overslept badly on Tuesday morning. I think I pressed snooze so many times on my alarm that it eventually just gave up trying; either that or I switched it off by mistake. In any case, I woke up to the sound of Happy Handyman (who I give a lift to work) banging on the front door at a quarter to nine. Given that we normally leave at twenty to, this put me into a right oul’ flap, and I don’t think I’ve recovered from the disorientated feeling yet.
Last night, following two more mornings of oh-crap-it-seriously-can’t-be-time-to-get-up-yet-can-it, which involved pressing snooze many, many times, I decided it was actually the fault of the alarm itself (and nothing to do with sitting chatting till 1am and then writing blogs). I’d had a beautiful ballad set on my phone’s alarm clock to gently rouse me from my slumber of a morning – slow, gentle piano music and a soft, soothing voice. It was too calm. Totally ridiculous having a lullaby-like song as your alarm clock, I realised.
I may have been a bit extreme with my new choice, though. I was somewhat panicked when, at 7.30am this morning, I was gently roused abruptly dragged from my dreams by the Kaiser Chiefs yelling
RUBY RUBY RUBY RUBY!
It had seemed like a good idea the night before. But in the cold light of day, when I was snug and warm under my duvet, having a most pleasant dream in which I was strolling along the beach with the current object of my affections in a terribly romantic fashion, it was nothing but a rude awakening and potential heart attack material. Poor Kat lost one of her nine lives and shot off the bed, out of the bedroom and down the stairs, all in the space of two seconds. I was in such a panic that I just flailed around helplessly for a moment, and the phone ended up crashing to the floor, still blaring away like it was angry with me for wanting to stay in bed.
DO YA DO YA DO YA DO YA?
it yelled accusingly. I did. I found snooze, and, trembling slightly, retreated beneath the duvet. Of course, no sooner had my heart begun to slow down to something approaching its normal rate, than the whole loud nightmare was noisily repeating itself, and I think I may have sworn a little bit as I fumbled with the alarm tone settings.
Ten minutes later, and a soothing ballad filled the air.
And I overslept.