Servants of the Borg.

I’m moved to start thinking about my most hated objects, just to have something to post about during these mentally turbulent but physically idle days.

The first is alarm clocks. Can’t stand the damn things. How can something so mindless be so presumptuous at the same time? The alarm clock exists from day to day to the last syllable of recorded time (Macbeth, in case you didn’t know) with only one purpose to give its mean little existence meaning: to make an unearthly noise at an unearthly hour of the morning and tell you it’s time to wake up and get up.

‘But I don’t want to get up yet.’

You must. You have no choice. It is time. I have spoken and you will obey. Resistance is useless.

I just set mine for 6.30. I think one of us will have to go.