Smack The Clocky

I could have used a Clocky this morning having hit the snooze button 3 times for an extra 30 minutes of fragmented disturbing dreams. Then again, having to chase down my alarm clock once the snooze went off again only to find it under the bed, behind some old shoes and the shirt I've been looking for for the better part of a year, then having to bash shit out of it, gutting every fucking wire and flushing the evil digital display for making me leave my warm bed probably wouldn't be the most productive use of my energy first thing in the morning. And really, who needs to be reminded that 1.) You are and forever will be a slob, and 2.) The anger issues have reared their ugly head again and you don't have the money to go to therapy because you have to replace your fucking alarm clock! I think I'll pass on Clocky.