I just asked Siri to set an alarm for 5:22 am tomorrow, as I have an early call with the UK, at 6.
“Hey Siri,” I said into my iPhone, politely. “Set an alarm for five-twenty-two-a-m.”
“OK,” she responded. “Alarm set for 5:22 am tomorrow. Don’t wake me up.”
Wait. What? “Don’t wake me up?” I want Siri to wake me up. Is she trying to be funny? As in, “fine, you can get up that early, but I’m sleeping in, chubby.” Or did she misunderstand my original request?
I really think she was trying to be clever and cute. And so, concerned and confused, I cancelled the alarm and asked again. This time, Siri (sounding a little disappointed in me) answered without the flair. “OK,” she chirped, flatly.
So now I’m worried. It’s kind of an important call.
So I went and asked Alexa to set an alarm for 5:22 a.m. tomorrow, too. Just in case. “Alexa, set an alarm for five-twenty-two-a-m tomorrow.”
“Playing music by ‘The Alarm,'” Alexa said cheerfully, followed by the slightly-shrill opening synth-trumpets of “68 Guns.”
Hmmm. Maybe I should ask Dot, Alexa’s little sister, to get me up tomorrow morning? But she’s in the other room, out of mutual earshot. (And is her name Dot or Alexa, or is it Echo? Gaaaa!)
So now I’m all cranked up. I probably won’t sleep much tonight, knowing that I have to get up early — and that I can’t depend on any of my lady friends – real or electric – to wake me.
Not gonna ask my wife, Theresa: she’s got tomorrow off (for once!).
Not gonna ask my teenage daughter Tess: shouting someone out of bed every morning is my job, not hers.
Not gonna ask daughter Julia, either: I’m a little scared of her in the morning.
Maybe I need to buy a Windows phone and ask Cortana?
And just then, Luna the dog walks into the room and throws herself onto me in a full-body canine-hug, trying (yet again) to put her entire head into my mouth.
Who am I kidding? She gets me up at 5:21 every morning.
I’m all set.