WHAT NOT TO SAY - the Alarm Clock (Britain) Affair

Good Morning!

Yes, a good morning to you ‘Alarm Clock’ people. As if...

This morning I had the misfortune to wake up to two, yes two, ‘Alarm Clock Britain’ columns respectively by two of my favourite columnists/comedians. Unfortunately too, I am not a member of ‘Alarm Clock Britain’ and even if I was, this whole ‘Alarm Clock Britain’ affair leaves me incredibly baffled. I suppose that was the point of both columns; so they certainly didn’t miss their points.

Neither did Nick Clegg, the cause of the whole consternation. They, CB and DM, wrote about it. I am writing about it. Unfortunately (it’s a real unfortunate choice of words resulting in an unfortunate situation), he misses his goal. What the hell or rather who the hell is he talking about? I can only conclude this is the start of the apocalypse.

I am not willing to discuss the choice of words any further. Go read Charlie Brooker’s and David Mitchell’s columns for that; they said it all.
Sources:
1. David Mitchell's column and
2. Charlie Brooker's column

I am going to be sarcastic about it though.

I woke up, sort of, to my alarm clock. Like on every Sunday evening I set my alarm clock to 7 am. Not with the intention to wake up or something, rather with the intention to pretend I’m going to be a good girl and get up at the first sounds of a blaring alarm. I don’t think my zombie kind of state qualifies as getting up. Beside that, the only thing I do as a reaction to the alarm is turning it off for another blissful 9 minutes to repeat the procedure. Around 8 am thoughts start to form in my head that I really should get up or I’ll be fantastically late at work.

This morning was an exceptional sleepy affair. Unlike many other mornings my mind registered the whole ‘Alarm Clock Affair’. For good measure I’m now going to explain what an ‘Alarm Clock Affair’ is.

An Alarm Clock Affair is the affair of reaching some level of consciousness, due to a blaring alarm clock, and getting into an upward position out of the bed to make my way to the alarm clock and turn it off for 9 more minutes, then I return to the bed. This procedure is repeated till 8 o’clock am. This whole procedure, from 7 am to 8 am, is the ‘Alarm Clock Affair’.

Anyway, registered but not as much as awake. I realized I needed to clean out my cats’ lavatory (or lavalibdem in this case *snigger* ergh...) which meant I needed some extra time before leaving the house for work.
Only now I reached a higher level of being awake. Nothing special, but I was very quickly aware of the dodgy state of mind of this day.

Does that make me an ‘Alarm Clock’ person? I suppose it does, yet I feel it has nothing to do with me. Not only because I’m not British, but also whenever Mr. Clegg uses that phrase I feel strangely alienated from whatever he’s trying to express. I wish he knew what he was talking about; I have the daunting suspicion he doesn’t, like no one seems to know.

I now go laugh/cry/scream in a corner.

If I had said something like ‘Alarm Clock Britain’ at work I would have received my resignation letter.

This whole 'Alarm Clock' Affair made me angrier than I should have become! That's why half of the title is in capitols.

I did however edit this piece a mere 7 times for your enjoyment. Not that I was actually counting.