Snooze

Alex missed the snooze function of his alarm clock. In college, he'd keep hitting that button until ten minutes before his 3pm lecture. He was a champion napper. And when he started seeing Jill, the desire to stay in bed was even stronger. They spent hours in the warm honey halfway state between sleep and wakefulness, luxuriating, each blissed out on the simple nearness of the other. The beeping of the alarm would make them ruffle, hands flapping sleepily toward the clock until it was quiet, and then they'd settle back down in a soft tangle of limbs and sighs.

Now, though, Jill got up early. She worked at an optometrist's office downtown and the commute was long. The alarm would go off, and instead of another ten minutes of stretching and fuzziness, she'd slip out from under the covers, brisk and efficient, leaving behind a little hollow that slowly cooled and erased itself.

Alex usually had an extra hour or so to doze if he wanted, but would watch Jill as she got ready for the day, stepping into the pantyhose that weren't necessary but which she wore because it felt more officey and businesslike, pulling her hair up and off her neck into a loose bun held sort of in place with three pins. On her way out, Jill would lean over and kiss Alex, a light touch that was more air than mouth that nonetheless bathed him in warmth - the feeling of safety and home.

But he could never fall back asleep. The space where Jill should have been always pulled at him like an undertow. Today, his arm wandered over to find Jill's shoulder but just met cool sheets. It felt like when you were a kid and had your feet sticking out of the sheets but then you noticed how quiet the house was and how dark the room seemed and what might be crawling out from under the bed to grab you by the ankle and drag you away screaming, so you pulled your feet under the covers even though it was too warm. It was like that. Alex pulled his arm back to his chest, hoping to shake off the chill, but the feeling followed him to work.

That night, over dinner, Alex asked Jill if they could play hooky, just once, and sleep in together with no schedule to keep, without worrying about being adults with important jobs. Jill went upstairs without saying a word. Alex washed up after dinner, but even the hot soapy water didn't dispel the cold from his hands.

By the time he climbed the stairs to their room, Alex was shivering. He pushed open the bedroom door, knowing he'd find Jill already asleep, or at least pretending to be asleep, her back turned and her shoulders hunched, her spine an unfriendly ridge telling him to keep his distance.

He slid quietly into bed, something dull in his stomach. Alex reached out and softly brushed Jill's shoulder. He meant to turn to his other side when he felt her uncurl. Her eyes peered out at him from under the comforter for a minute, and then she handed him something she'd been holding.

It was their alarm clock. The numbers were dark, and Alex followed the cord across Jill and to the wall, where the plug lay on the carpet. Alex looked back at Jill, who raised her eyebrows at him a couple times and yanked the covers over her head. Adam tossed the alarm clock onto the floor and joined her.

Not a Morning Person

"CHHHH dun-ch-dun-ch-dun-ch-dun-ch"

Josie swerves, almost hits the car in the next lane. The driver honks and she jumps again. 

It's that fucking drumbeat. Every time. Who makes Billy Idol's "Dancing with Myself" their alarm clock song? Someone who wants to make weekday mornings worse than they already are. Someone going through a dry patch. Someone bitter, but with a bleak sense of humor. Josie to a T. 

This was a few years ago. She's been seeing someone new lately, Danielle. They met in line at the bank. Danielle is an optimist, sunny all the time. Josie is constantly surprised she doesn't hate her. Danielle is soft, curvy hips. Whenever Danielle spends the night, Josie tries to avoid turning on the alarm clock at all. If she does have somewhere to be the next day, it's just a generic beep.

Josie should have known. About Billy Idol, that is. This has happened before with other songs. "Kiss Off" by Violent Femmes. Blondie's "Heart of Glass." Just a few notes and that's it. Whatever else she's doing, whatever else she's thinking--gone. She is alert, heart pounding. She is running late, even when she isn't. There is no snooze button in the grocery store, at the dentist's office, in the car. The early morning interruption lingers with her for hours. 

Dance like Elaine

If you want to test a relationship, dance like Elaine from Seinfeld

Preferably in a crowded place
Preferably at a black tie event

Really go for it. Bust out your thumbs and full body dry heave

Make sure you have enough space
Make sure you maintain eye contact

Everyone will stare at you, so be prepared for that. Own it

Some friends will pretend not to know you
Some dates will sneak out through the back

Let them go. You don't need that in your life. Keep dancing

Calloused

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