It’s Friday and I can’t keep my eyes open.
And it’s all Apple’s fault.
No, really. It is.
See, Apple didn’t let me sleep last night. In fact, Apple sabotaged my ability to sleep on a number of fronts.
First, and let’s be ABSOLUTELY CLEAR, I am in no way responsible for the fact that I stayed up late reading a book on my iPhone. That’s right. Apple sabotaged my brain. If I hadn’t had that book on my iPhone, I would have gone right to sleep, like a sleep-loving baby (said no parent of a baby EVER).
Second, Apple did a truly heinous thing. It released its new version of the iPad for sale at midnight on FREAKING PACIFIC TIME.
Dear People of the West Coast, Please get it into your heads that we on the East Coast run the time clock. Quit this uppity nonsense right now. The United States of America can’t base their time schedule on a portion of the country that could fall into the ocean at any moment. Sorry.
Why did this new iPad release time suck hairy goat balls you ask?
Because my husband had to get up to order a gagillion iPads at 3am. Now, WHY he had to do this, I have no flippin’ clue. It was for work. Apparently, underlings cannot be trusted to order iPads. You need a junior executive to this. At 3am.
The ways of corporate America are mysterious indeed.
Of course, he was also out late for work last night, so he was worried he would not be able to wake up to complete his onerous late night shopping task.
This required alarms.
A LOT OF ALARMS.
Guess what we use as alarms in our house?
That’s right, Apple products.
He set his alarm on his iPhone(some horrible dinging sound noise)--apparently, for multiple times, so that he could not be bamboozled by snooze.
I set my alarm, a happy, gentle harp sound. We hunted up the family iPad to set an alarm. We tracked down the daughter’s iPod to set an alarm.
(Now, just three days ago, I had a flash of evil insight and changed the daughter’s alarm noise to “My Girl” from The Temptations. Little did I know that this piece of parental sadism would come back to bite me in the ass so soon).
All of the alarms duly went off and were silenced or snoozled. Repeatedly.
At some point, in a fit of complete disorientation, I bolted upright and looked around frantically for the source of my torment. There were so many damn Apple products in the room I couldn’t figure out which one was torturing me.
At some point, around 3:30, after hitting and swiping at some sort of electronic screen, I reached over my soundly sleeping son (go figure--he’d been awake from midnight to 2am) and smacked Chris on the shoulder.
Me: “Did you get up? Did you order the stupid iPads?”
Chris: Mumble, mumble. “Mhhhm.”
Me: “Yes? Does that mean yes?” Smack.
Chris: “Ahh!” He shoved my hand away. “Yes! Yes!”
Me: “Then turn off the DAMN ALARMS!”
Him: More mumbling.
I looked around the room one more time, darting suspicious glances at all the corners where possible Apple predators lurked. “Those things had better be ALL TURNED OFF, DAMMIT.”
Finally, I drifted off towards sleep.
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