Sleepless Pill

My first flush of enthusiasm for the new sleeping pills has faded into a dull disappointment. Monday night’s miracle drug turned into Wednesday night’s drug of torture.

Following directions, I took the sleeping pill about 9:30 last night. It is supposed to have a short period of onset, and they warn you not to take the drug unless you’ll have eight free hours to sleep afterwards.

10:00 – I’m in bed, tucking myself in and making myself comfortable. The prospect of another good night’s sleep is making me feel warm and fuzzy.

11:00 – Still awake. Tired, but awake. Decide it’s my bladder’s fault, and get up to void it. Return directly to bed.

12:00 – Hear The Socialist come in from his evening at the gym. Toss, re-adjust pillow, grumble at alarm clock.

1:00 – Am absolutely exhausted. I don’t see straight, and standing up to make a bathroom run is a challenge. Managed to navigate to and from the resstroom without toppling myself or anything else.

2:00 – Still exhausted, but now stomach starts to grumble. Roll over and try to ignore it.

3:00 – Give up and stumble down to kitchen. Eat grapefruit, apparently without spraying everything in a five foot radius with the grapefruit wedgies. Grumble to Socialist, who is getting ready to go to bed. Follow him up soon afterward.

4:00 – Beginnings of true sleep-deprivation psychosis set in. Am sure I see blinking lights like fireflies marching around the bedroom. I rub my eyes. The fireflies go away.

5:00 – Consider just giving up and going into work early instead.

8:00 – Wake up, quite unrefreshed. Drag tardy carcass to work.

I don’t think I can do another night of that.

I’ve a call pending to Dr. Liver regarding next Friday’s appointment at the Big City Hospital. Haven’t heard back yet.