The Bewildering

A few weeks ago, I slept through my alarm. I did so by a considerable margin. In fact, I woke up at about the time I was supposed to be someplace. It was an upsetting experience. I woke up with the awareness that it was far too bright out, and yet I could not believe my eyes when I saw the time on my alarm clock. I had to look at it for what seemed like an eternity before I could even make sense of the numbers. I was only half-awake, and in a terrible panic.

A minute or two later, I had already made a call to the person who would soon be missing me, leaving a frantic and poorly-composed voice mail. I was hurriedly putting on the previous day's pants and the first shirt I could lay my hands up. I certainly did not shower or do anything more than dress and put on my contacts, and I could have used a shower. I had been out rather late the night before, and I'll confide in you that it wasn't for any purpose as innocent as reading at home.

Just a few minutes after waking up, I rushed away from my building and towards the subway station. I was still shaking the cobwebs from my brain and the sleep from my eyes. By the time I arrived at my destination, I was was maybe an hour late after waking up two hours late. The day didn't go as well as I would have liked, but it was no disaster either. I wasn't really so very worried, nor need I have been. Of course, worrying is generally unproductive.

Anyway, what was interesting was just those first five or so minutes, and how I felt- how I perceived. I couldn't understand simple numerals on a clock. I couldn't believe anything that my eyes or ears were telling me. I don't think there was anything in my brain except for general incredulity. It was not pleasant. Happily, it doesn't happen often, but I think that it's perhaps good for it to happen once in a while. It's good to feel something so striking.