I would be misleading you if I said I’m ‘just’ a heavy sleeper. You might be the sort of person who can hear a fucking ninja creeping across the floor (to kill you) while asleep, but when I am sleeping I’m as good as knocked out after taking ten sleeping pills. If it wasn’t for my pulse, I would be pronounced dead every morning.
So waking up is a daily challenge for me. Over the years, I have developed many strategies. Such as setting 25 separate alarms on my cellphone all within the space of half an hour – all of them 1-2 minutes apart from each other – around the time I want to wake up. There have been times when I have successfully slept through this cacophony. The problem starts when I want to, say, take a short nap. I might tell my mom that I need to go somewhere and that I’m decide to take a short nap (I don’t do that often) and in case my alarm doesn’t work could she please wake me up on time.
My mom’s terrific at so many things, but one thing she’s failed miserably so far is to be able to wake me up. Ever. Her method works like thus…
Mom: Wake up. You just slept through your alarm and you said you need to go somewhere now.
Mom: Are you going to wake up now then?
Mom: Good. Also, there’s this untidy pile of papers lying on your table. Is that supposed to be thrown away?
When I do wake up approximately two hours later (or until an angry friend calls me irritatedly on my cellphone, whichever is earlier) I find that I have massively overshot my nap time and that piece of paper in which I had figured out how to solve the BP oil spill has been thrown away. Mom comes back into my room when she hears my “AAAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH!” scream that would put Hollywood sound libraries to shame.
Mom: What’s the matter?
Me: I overslept. AAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!
Mom: I did wake you up.
Me: I beg to differ, as you can see. Also, I can’t find that piece of paper where I had figured out a kick-ass solution to the BP oil spill problem. The one where I’d planned to use Chetan Bhagat to block the spewing oil vents.
Mom: I threw that away. You consented to it.
I think at times when she really wants to throw some stuff of mine out she deliberately asks me that when I’m half asleep. After all, “Mmmmpppffhhh” is unequivocally ‘consent’. And now you also know why Nokia, Inc is my most trusted friend when I have to wake up at a specific time.
Still love my mom though. :)