when alex said he wanted a blackberry, my thoughts raced to the offices were i spent my first months’ work in charlottesville, va. blackberries, palm pilots, all-the-time-accessibility to what is known as: too. much. information.
i saw: suits. black polyester-cotton blends. iron flattened hair. stiff walks. necks in ties and calves perched up on stilt-like heels.
what i did *not* have in mind was the glorious possibility of an alarm clock that did not make me cranky at the very moment of consciousness – but that, my dears, is what we got.
now, don’t get me wrong: HE got the blackberry. but *we* got that precious call to morning… an alarm that sounds off a charming song rather than the series of successively louder tones that have carried me into the morning for years of work and school days…
this morning: all the rules were broken. before we’d even made it to our feet: we were dancing to the alarm clock. our arms up in the air, grooving to the second-go-round of the alarm. [the song does not deter me from snoozing any better than the beeps, alas…]
the next thing you know: up.
just like that.
its morning: dance!