It is, yes, still weird to say “my husband.” In fact, I continue to word my sentences on purpose to not have to say “my husband,” because it still seems so strange. Pretentious, almost. Sniff. I have a husband. Ha!
Every morning, his alarm clock goes off at 0345. Then again at 0350. Then again at 0400. Also at 0400, my cell phone alarm goes off, and at 0402 his cell phone alarm goes off. At 0405, all three clocks go off together, then my cell phone goes off for a final time at 0415. This is to ensure that he gets to base on time. I’m convinced that this method does nothing more than deprive you of a half hour’s sleep, but enough people are disciples of the “wake up gradually by many alarms” method, that I can’t really knock it in earnest. Besides, my own method didn’t work so well this morning—I turned the darn thing off without even waking up, then slept in until the precise moment when I should have been leaving the house. Still made it to work on time (barely), but it made for a complicated morning. Especially since I’m the one driving the car without decals this week.