This morning I was awakened by the ringing of my alarm clock– a highly unusual occurrence since my alarm clock is of the Moonbeam variety. For those of you unfamiliar with the Moonbeam, its claim to fame is that it is designed to awaken you with the peaceful glow of simulated sunshine, thus allowing you to attain consciousness slowly and calmly - instead of assaulting you with the usual beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep SLAM-CRASH-CRUNCH-SNOOZE experience offered by most traditional alarm clocks.
On most mornings however, the real experience of waking up to the Moonbeam can be likened to having an ambulance and 10 cop cars drive into your bedroom, sirens silenced, all lights flashing incessantly like the pulsing strobe of a techno dance club. I half expect to open my eyes one day and see a federal drug bust going down at the foot of my bed.
Not today though! This morning was just the pleasant little brrrring brrring brrrring of a normal alarm bell – the one that kicks in after the Moonbeam gives up on all the armageddon flashing because you’re still COMPLETELY UNCONSCIOUS and the only thing it can think to do is make some sort of tentative little noise at you. So this morning as I was running down my list of everything and everyone that I was grateful for in my life, (yes, I do this every morning – stop the mocking) I sent a very special shout out to my good buddy Southern Comfort who apparently nudged me into just enough of a coma last night that I was able to entirely skip the horrible flashy light part of today. Thanks bourbon gods, you rock!
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