My weekday mornings start in one of two ways - either NPR gently glides into my ear or one of the cats jumps on my back and starts kneading. Cat experts say it's an instinctual nursing reflex, I think they're trying to find an artery and end my life. <tangent>Cat experts are the "automotive global warming deniers" of feline zoology. They can't admit to cats' plans for dominance because that would put them out of work. </tangent>
No matter how I wake up, I answer it the same way: smack the offending source to trigger Snooze. I love Snooze. It's the cheapest of drugs I do; that slide back into pseudo-sleep in the morning feels better than anything else I'll feel that day. I imagine it's like crack - a 9 minute trip into pleasure cut short by a hideous crash. Or a traffic report, since this isn't actually crack.
In college, my freshman year roommate grew to hate me and my 8 o'clock class. I woke up for it a total of 12 times, but set my alarm for it every single morning, hitting snooze until snooze turned off. He'd try addressing it with me in the evening - "Hey, you know and I know you're not going to your 8 o'clock tomorrow morning, so can you not set the alarm?"
My inevitable response at 10 PM - "listen, I'm going tomorrow. I need this education."
At 1 AM (drunk) - "I'm going to class man, I'm going to take a nap right after it."
At 7:00 AM: <BEEP BEEP BEEP> <SMACK>
At 7:09 AM: <BEEP BEEP BEEP> <SMACK>
At 8:09 AM: <BEEP BEEP BEEP> <SMACK>
Then blissful silence. I couldn't even feel the hate emanating from the bottom bunk.
The major problem is this: whether or not I'd wake up was an unknown quantity, driven only by my motivation level at 7:00 AM. Which is typically utter shit.
Fast forward to my current life, married and cohabitating with a spouse who is anything but a morning person. The same behavior occurs, but the responsibility level is much higher so I eventually drag-ass out of bed and into the shower. I'm not a better person, I've just got a lot more to lose.
It's still the same thing, though - I have NO IDEA at 10 PM whether or not I'll wake up promptly at 6:15 AM or snooze until 7:05 AM, then lurch out of bed swearing at my life.
"God damnit, I'm late again."
The wife just snarls and rolls over.
I don't understand why she doesn't get such an awesome "falling asleep high" but she doesn't. She also doesn't drink so much she falls over vomiting, either. So I guess she's better than me in TWO ways.