I have never been a graceful riser. I am a snooze-button junkie, and always have been. My mother used to wake me up through my high school years, because I literally failed at using an alarm clock effectively.
My subconscious would have full conversations with her in the early morning, bargaining for extended slumber and specific breakfast items. When I actually woke up, I would not remember speaking with her, but I was very glad I had apparently requested oatmeal and tea.
She dreaded my move to college as she was convinced that I would sleep through my alarms -- as in, from two different sources -- and miss all my classes.
Lucky for me, missing all my classes did nothing to prevent me from graduating.
In my time as a "working man," I have made incredible strides; my initial alarm goes off at 6:35 A.M., and I usually manage to physically leave the bed by 7:10 A.M.
Nonetheless, every now and then, ancient demons arise.
This morning, as the series of alarms began, I must've been in very deep sleep, as my dreams simply incorporated the alarm right in. The only thing I recall distinctly is that when I looked at my ringing cell phone -- which has become my alarm clock -- the area I would typically touch to hit "snooze" or "turn off alarm" were absent.
Instead, the only option by which to silence the phone read "Get married."
And, feeling the lingering affection of the pint glass-sized nightcap I poured myself last night, this seemed like a bargain, so I hit it.