…and fittingly, it might be a little incoherent, as I’ve just taken what I refer to as Mama’s Lil Sleeping Medicine. (It’s Ambien. I know I don’t need to be folksy with you. It’s just plain old Ambien.)
Which leads me to an interesting experiment I’ve had in mind for awhile: Take Ambien, and then go about my end-of-the-day business. Then, when I wake up, fully rested, with the sun attempting to shine through our black-out drapes and a pigeon cooing away on the fire escape, I will sit up and try to remember what I did the night before. There are always many possibilities, for instance:
1) I once bought a pair of green-blue tunnel loafers from Marc Jacobs, in a size that isn’t even the same shape as my feet, while under the influence. I eventually gave them to a quite petite friend. Now I have a strict shoe uniform of Doc Martins in the winter and gold sandals in the summer. Takes care of all debates about shoes.
2) I have on more than one occasion watched a whole TV show or movie with Himself, only to forget about it. Watching those shows again makes me realize that deja vu is probably crap. I’m sure it’s just stuff we knew and weren’t paying attention to.
3) Barely related, but as I have a number of interesting parasomnias besides insomnia and Ambien-induced amnesia, I figure this counts: Once, at a sleepover in middle school, sat bolt upright in my sleeping bag and started loudly denouncing a girl at the party, until she cried and woke me up, whereupon I began loudly denouncing her for crying. Awake or asleep, I was a real bitch at 13. Sorry, planet earth and everyone on it.
And so there you go. This is my 1000th post, and it is all about Ambien. Feel free to use it as evidence at the hearing. I won’t remember.
Also, here’s how much the internet loves pills. I have a series of stock art to prove it: