Alarm clocks are wretched things. I understand its functional purpose, but it's a wretched device. As a chronic insomniac, sleep and I hardly get acquainted as is, but when an alarm clock gets added into the mix—everything just goes bananas.
And despite my best intentions, I rarely actually get up on time because I've hit the snooze button eight times.
So, I decide to outsmart the clock by setting the alarm early so I can hit the snooze button eight times and still get up on time. Of course, that doesn't work because I'm now hitting the snooze button those eight times, plus another 16.
Huh. Well played, alarm clock. WELL PLAYED.
Laura: 0. Alarm Clock: 1.
And the battle continues...
(I'm sure some of you can relate to my alarm clock woes. How are you doing in your own alarm clock battle?)
|HOLY MOLY T-REX. The very lovely Emilie is the only person I know who sends me truly velociraptoriffic mail—both literally and figuratively. Plus, she has a truly dinomyte dinosaur collection.|
|A postcard from my niece, the world traveller|
|Articoolz from the great Rhiannon|
|A letter from Jennifer|
There's a certain irony in the fact that by starting a club to facilitate and encourage penpalling, I've put myself in a position where I can't write letters. Other than one letter I wrote earlier in the week, I literally have no time for penpalling right now. I joked to Julie that we should start a League of Extraordinary Dishwashers, because that's certainly something that I'd like to stop doing. League of Extraordinary Toilet Scrubbers, anyone?
|Arrows (she's over there!) for Sarah|
|Apples and lights for Julie in Grand Rapids|
|Handmade postcard for Nicole|