One of my many horrors is to become the man with the frayed jacket and unfastened flies standing at the Co-op counter with egg on his shirt and more too because the mirror in the hall has given up the ghost. A shipwrecked man without an anchor in the world except in his own liquid thoughts where time has lost its sequence.
I hate alarms. If they go off I get really tetchy. I hate them. They just get me going, I'm hyper at the best of times, but they drive me mad.