The Day I Ditched My Alarm Clock
I’ve always been a slave to the buzz—6:00 a.m., that shrill beep yanking me from dreams to reality. It ruled my life for years, a tiny tyrant on my nightstand. But one Tuesday, I snapped. I’d just read some post here about motivation—quitting smoking, chasing rewards—and it hit me: I’m done waking up miserable.
So I chucked it. Not the fancy “set a sunrise lamp” move—just smashed the snooze button with a hammer and tossed it in the trash. Day one? Slept till 9, missed a meeting, panicked. But then… freedom. I started waking when my body said so—7:30, 8, whatever. Work didn’t care; I cared less. The first week was chaos—overslept, scrambled eggs cold by noon. But by day ten, I woke to birds, not buzzers.
The reward? Time. Not clock time—my time. No buzz, just birds. Coffee tastes better. Mornings feel mine. It’s been three weeks, and I’m not going back. Maybe it’s not quitting smoking big, but it’s my win. McArthur’s smoking post got me thinking: desire beats excuses every time. What’s yours?
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