Change in our routines can be jarring. When we moved into Army barracks in Germany, I remember almost coming to tears one night when I wandered into my parents' bedroom in search of the bathroom. In our old house, it was down the hall to the right of my bedroom; in the barracks, it was on the left. This morning, a change in routine might have rudely awakened my husband.
On Saturday night I was frustrated, my fingers crawling up and down the dial with the tiniest of movements on the wheel, attempting to find a radio station to awaken me in the morning. No such luck; the receiver had given out.
Luckily, my husband had given me a new alarm clock several years ago when I thought the old one was dying. Just when it seemed completely gone, a station would appear loud and strong, as if the machine was taunting me. So the new clock had stayed in the box on the floor near my bed, until Saturday. I plugged it in, read the instructions, and set the alarms.
I awoke unusually early on Sunday, and turned off the alarms so as not to wake my still-slumbering husband. Turning the alarms completely off is easy; there are sliding buttons on the far left and right, and I know they are off when the lighted dots go out.
This morning I awoke to the alarms for the first time, and had a moment of panic when I realized the reset button is a bit harder to find in the dark. It's tiny and located in the middle of the clock's top, so there were a few second of fumbling and feeling around before I figured it out. I can only imagine what my husband was thinking, knowing his alarm goes off an hour and a half later than mine. I will have to study the buttons tonight and imprint locations in my memory, or risk having a crabby spouse later!