Ode to a Useless Button

Aha! I have gotten your attention because you suppose I mean to elaborate on the subject of the human navel. This is incorrect. So, you say, what other button could possibly be useless?

Ladies and Gentlemen, I submit for your consideration the Snooze button.

For those of you unfamiliar with this particular button because you do not like sleep, allow me to elucidate: the Snooze button is a large button located on an alarm clock. (If you do not know what an alarm clock is you must really find out because everyone else uses one and I’m sure you can make it a subject of interesting conversation at your place of work even today. For example, “Don’t you just hate the sound of your alarm clock?” is a great discussion starter. Be prepared, however, for various imitations of various alarm clock noises, none of which will be familiar to you if this dissertation applies to yourself. You will either be vastly amused or vastly annoyed. You have officially been warned.) But back to my definition: the snooze button is a button one can push after one’s alarm has gone off to shut off the alarm for approximately nine minutes (why nine, we’re not sure; for whatever reason they didn’t want to do ten) at which point the incessant beeping returns, and you must get up, or thwack the button again. And again. And again. Ad nausaeum.

Yes, it already sounds useless, doesn’t it? But consider: for those of us who unlike you enjoy sleep the most at ungodly hours of the morning, it means nine more minutes of precious shuteye before the day begins. Or so we tell ourselves, for the sleep we get in those nine minutes would be by no means worth the trouble if we were our awake and thinking selves. Which of course we are not; why did you think we were hitting the button in the first place?!

I am a case in point. I sleep in a loft bed, some six feet off the floor. For me to get into bed requires my climbing on top of my desk and hoisting myself up from there. My alarm clock lies directly beneath my calves as I lay in bed, only about three feet down. Thus, it cannot be reached from where I lie and I am forced to get out of bed, climb down to the floor, and shut the fool thing off in the morning. One would think this would prevent me from going back to bed. Oh no! There have been mornings- and I will not say how many- when I have pushed the Snooze button twice or more times. Yes, this requires climbing up and down several times, but hey, it’s worth it, right?

Ah, Snooze button, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways: one- snore- two- snore- three...

(This petite essay I wrote on the weekend as the writer's bug bit me hard. It's one bug I'm quite fond of, but in this case it seems to have produced some utter fluff. In any case, I hope it made you smile, though I don't expect it has enough substance to be considered a meal. I apologize to those of you wanting more, and I shall try to do better next time. )