I like to spring from bed in the morning. Like many others, I have a gift for multiple snooze-presses, the net result of which is normally to make me more tired, less happy and catastrophically late. I aspire to be like those people who are enthusiastic about life and whose first seconds of consciousness are accompanied by energy and movement, not self-deceit and dream-clinging.
A killer solution to my difficulties in this area came to me quite by chance. At some point, traveling from Europe to the UK at the same time as a time change that served to amplify the normally one hour time difference, my alarmc-lock ended up two hours fast.
When I woke the next morning, the time, according to said clock, was 10 a.m. My first meeting of the day was at nine. Of that particular appointment my rudimentary consciousness remained unaware, but the news that 10 a.m. had come to pass was nonetheless accompanied by a sharp sense of horror. (“Uuuuurgh, schucks”).
Having then leapt from bed like a startled egret, it took me more than a minute to realize it was in fact eight a.m. and that everything was in order. By that point, though, I was dressed and ready to go. Ideal. I could use this every day, I thought.
And who would have guessed: the next day, the same thing happened as I woke at 8 a.m. staring at 10 a.m. And my reaction was just as vigorous and dynamic. As soon as my eyes cracked open, overcome by the horror of my probable lateness (a microcosm of the ongoing dissolution of my youth) I was in action-mode in a flash. Boots on. Flower in my button-hole. Flannels creased. Ready for action.
I assumed that the trick I was letting my alarm clock play on me would only work for a while, but that I would gradually adjust to the trick, discount it and resume snoozing, knowing better than to think it ten a.m, having been fooled in the past. But that adjustment never came. The trick seemed to work just about every time. The first few seconds of operation from my muggy morning brain, it turns out, are quite incapable of accessing the memory of the clock’s persistent treachery: I see the 10 a.m. blinking at me, swear at myself, and launch myself into action.
In this way, i’ve found that by having my clock two hours fast, I’m able consistently to wake up at an exceptional velocity. I’m able to start the day as a winner. That’s how I like it. That’s how the Memrise team likes it.