*Ah, look what time it is. Early in the morning! Time to wake up to the soothing sounds of an aggravatingly loud alarm clock noise.*
Ah, sleep. If one wasn’t going to be actively creating, then sleep was a splendid way to spend one’s time. After all, dreams could be incredibly inspiring! Notebook even kept a little pad of paper and pencil next to his bed in case his muse struck him in the night. Made it easy for jotting down ideas or sketches, or quickly stabbing said muse when he decided to alarm clock the artist awake.
Boy did he hate it when that darn clock did his morning duty. Especially since Tony’s schedule clashed with Notebook’s in just about every way.
At the annoying sound, the artist flailed about, trying to land a punch on the stupid clock’s face. “Go away! Can’t you see I’m still hitting the hay?” Tired of swinging at Tony, he flips over and burrows under his covers and hides his head under his pillow. Notebook was not a morning person when he did sleep. Which was not a common act. No, not a morning person at all.
