Patrick’s Antisomnopulsion

Patrick lay in bed, somewhere between slumber and consciousness. The alarm was on its sixth snooze rotation, a futile chirping failing in its battle to awaken. He knew he had to get up and face the day, yet the call of “just 10 more minutes” made for a logical argument against it, particularly to a mind not active enough to create a counter-offensive.

For the seventh time that morning, the alarm rang, and for the seventh time Patrick slammed the button to silence it for yet another 10 minutes. The morning was slipping away, and in the back of Patrick’s mind stirred the first rational thought of the day: this was getting ridiculous. Getting the kids to school, getting to work, getting that sweet, sweet hit of caffeine upon his tongue… all of it started to drive out the last of the evening’s cobwebs.

The eighth cry of the alarm was the antisomnopulsion Patrick needed, that final decision to fully awaken and jump out of bed, finally ready to greet the morning. Slumber may have been defeated that morning, but as the day progressed, it slowly came back to life, ready to bring Patrick down that night, ready for the incessant battle that would come with the sunrise.