Hussle and Motivate

TL;DR: I have an Arduino Uno from an abandoned project that I want to find a use for, a cup of tea being made will all but guarantee I get out of bed in the morning as opposed to checking my phone. A sunrise lamp is a good feature.

A couple of years ago I bought an Osoyoo (knock-off Arduino) Uno CNC plotter kit with the best intentions of building a CNC plotter from scratch, maybe even fitting it with a hot point to make a CNC wood engraver / house fire starter or a “3D printer pen” in a bid to be able to say I made my own 3D printer.

“I, Caleb Halfpenny, have made the thing which can make all things.”

Or words to that effect. In reality, knowing what I now know about the technology, if a competition broke out between myself with my “3D printer” and a toddler, armed with some Play-Doh, I’d just have to hope the child becomes as distracted by the smell of the clay as I always did. I like to picture the intuition that these projects were ill-conceived and destined to disappoint as a tennis player in my brain. A perfect tennis player guarding my physical response receptors, swatting away the neurons obsessed with this silliness before they get the chance to manifest into the actions that would absolutely and undoubtedly lead me to either burn my house down or be embarrassed by a toddler.
In reality though that intuition wasn’t there at all, those tennis ball neurons never even made it over the net as their server limply set them into motion, holding his racket with the grip of a teenage boy holding his younger brother’s hand to cross the road. The feeling of wanting to keep his kin safe and the overbearing teenage fear of being ridiculed causing the emotional scale to net out somewhere around apathy, but it’s an overwhelming apathy, closer to an anxious, confused impasse than real carelessness. The two sides of the internal tug-of-war are pulling with everything they have but neither can gain an inch, all their efforts merely increase the tension in the centre of the rope.
I wanted to pursue that project so that I could advertise it as some engineering feat I had accomplished independently, which would be great for a quirky interview answer – something I valued very highly then while desperately searching for a placement role. I didn’t want to pursue the project because it would take up a lot of placement application time and I didn’t really have a use for a CNC plotter.
So, I resolved not to build the machine, but the tension in that rope didn’t release, it remained as potential energy; untapped potential energy. Since then the unused Uno board has been as present in the back of my mind as it has been in the top of my wardrobe and I’ve always been keen to finally put it to use.

Now, today, I think I’ve found the use for that board. It’s been brewing for a while now; I want an alarm clock to ensure my phone isn’t the first thing I look at every morning and as I considered alarms I grew attracted to the concept of a simulated sunrise and that of tea/coffee preparation. But today the notion hit me that I could make those myself. “Sounds like a nice project” I thought, and went about my business. Somewhere inside though an obsession had began. I realised this myself the next time I went to check in on the idea and some part of my brain had stuck a post-it note to it with a parts list and rough design. Now we’re moving.
The power of having a good morning routine is preached about everywhere and at university it is evident. At university you live on your own terms mostly, if you don’t feel like getting out of bed, there’s no immediate repercussions forcing you against your will. Most days I wake up and go by 9 a.m. at the latest to either attend uni or get to the gym outside of peak hours, this is usually good enough motivation. The weekends though, where I give my body and mind a break are where troublesome habits become clear. I think letting my phone dictate when I get out of bed is a mistake. Using the alarm on it is convenient but it ensures the first thing in my hand every day is also capable of holding my attention for the entire day, and it certainly doesn’t encourage getting out of bed. On a day of low motivation I should be able to rely on my alarm clock to give me a reason to get out of bed. Sometimes the phone does this – a calendar reminder or a text from a friend wanting to go for breakfast, but more normally the phone does the opposite. I can interface with the entire world and live my life through it without getting out of bed and so I probably will, at least until I get hungry or need the bathroom. While I can live life through my phone, I prefer not to, I prefer to get up, enjoy a cup of tea with breakfast and do something a bit more involved like go for a walk at least. The phone has one key advantage in the morning routine though that allows it to win out most of the time – it’s already got my attention. And it sure knows how to keep it. YouTube knows how much I enjoy watching the sun rise so it has to have a bright red icon to catch my attention first. Facebook knows how much I enjoy a good breakfast so it has to bombard me with memes to distract me from my mild hunger. Instagram knows I’d love to get up and be active so it shows me only the prettiest of people, in automatically playing videos and captures my attention before even my own body has a chance to let me know it’s getting restless.
This is for the most part a passive experience though, I don’t actively engage in or even enjoy the morning routine, it’s like talking about the weather – inoffensive and could lead to something better – learning there’s a heatwave on the way, or seeing a post from a friend that shows them having fun. I’ve never went to bed at night excited at the prospect of checking my phone in the morning, or set my alarm for earlier than normal so I can enjoy the first posts of the day in real-time. So I need a wake up call that I can engage with actively, that encourages me to get out of bed, and boiling a cup of water is absolutely perfect for a few reasons:

1. Starting obvious, a cup of tea has caffeine, which of course takes it’s name from café, which is where a French maid would work. Caffeine being the French maid that walks around behind your eyes dusting off cobwebs when you drink a caffeinated beverage.
2. I enjoy tea actively rather than passively. One of my favourite things is to bring hot tea to my face and blow on it, basking in the fragrant steam that rises over my face and rejuvenates my eyes. My eyes which I have so cruelly exposed to this harshly arid world again, after a full 8 hours of tranquil bathing under their lids. They get it the worst in the morning, immediately they dry out and so the lids get shut again to spare the pain but they’re already so dry that the lids feel coarse as they close – that didn’t feel right, try again – same result, the pain is too much – I cry slightly, moistening the eyes and hence readying them for another day in this hostile world. This is of course the reason humans cry as a natural reaction to pain, so that the pain of dry eyes in the morning can be alleviated without the brain having to be fully awake.
   I also just enjoy drinking tea, you know, like a normal person.
3. I, for one, can’t drink lying down. At the least I’ll have to sit up in bed to avoid waterboarding myself with scalding tea. My chest now being exposed from the duvet is good priming for taking that next leap out of bed.
4. This is the most important point of all, all the others rely on me drinking the tea, what’s to stop me just lying on and boiling the kettle later? Well, I am. If there’s one thing I’ll credit myself for it’s not being wasteful. If that water is boiled it’s being used. I’ll do everything in my power to only use one pot when cooking, to the point where it has to be driven by a desire for efficiency rather than just laziness. Old jeans are now garden-work jeans, T-shirts, pyjama tops. I’ll use books I don’t like as work surfaces (my copy of Camus’ “The Myth of Sisyphus” was cut to shreds while used as a cutting board. Imagine finding a book about why life is worth living shredded with a scalpel on someone’s bedside cabinet, like some sort of violent protest to the concept that life has meaning. I’d be worried. I didn’t disagree entirely with the book, I just found the way it was written to be absolutely impenetrable – of course life has meaning. Doesn’t it?). So the thought of letting all the energy put into heating that water go to waste is . . . absurd.

That’s the motivation then, I want an alarm clock that inspires me to get out of bed, so it should make tea. A gradual illumination of the room is apparently the preferred wake up call for the ancient parts of the human body, which I have to assume are the only ones that matter when I’m sleeping, so that will be a nice feature to add. I have the brains of the operation in an Uno board and the ability to program it myself so I’ll just buy some lights and a heater, the thing will practically build itself. I can swap out the cheap looking white plastic housing these sunrise alarm clocks typically use for whatever I please. It’s going to be a great little project to work on and I’ll use the end product every single day. Fantastic!