Friday, July 30, 2010

Here's why Ambien is one of my BFFs

I'm not so big on having to rely on pharmaceuticals, especially for sleeping - I mean, it's sleep, it's something I've been doing since birth, right? I should be able to wing it, right? Sometimes, not to much.

I wait until I'm super tired, do my nighttime stuff - brush and floss my teeth, wash my face (if I haven't earlier in the evening), put my hair in a braid, make sure I don't have any stray eyebrow hairs (because the world would end if there were a fire in the house and I had to run outside with ungroomed eyebrows, right?), and take out my contacts - then crawl into bed and tetris myself in between the dog and cat (who, apparently, are incapable of sleeping anywhere but my side of the bed) and squish up my pillow under my head.

Then, as I'm getting close to drifting off to sleep, I hear a little airplane heading towards the miniature airport that's a couple of miles from here.

Then, I think it's weird to hear a small plane so late at night...

Then I wonder who's flying that tiny little plane so late at night...

Then I wonder if little planes like that have headlights...

Then I think that I can't remember ever having seen a little plane with a headlight...

Then I remember the time my mom's boyfriend, Ed, flew my mom, my sister and I over to Catalina Island on a little plane and then on the way back, he let me take the wheel and I veered hard to one side, like I was going to take us on a barrel roll. Then when we were almost back at the airport from which we had taken off, but hadn't yet gotten clearance to land, I announced that I was going to be sick. As Ed circled the small airport again and again, I was getting sicker and sicker and my mom told me to barf into my shirt. Gross. I decided to barf, instead, all over the front of the (rented) plane. You're welcome, Ed...

Then I try to try to remember how old I was and realize I couldn't have been older than ten or eleven...

Then I think about how The Kid is eleven now...

Then I remember a time when The Kid would only answer to Ed. No idea why...

Then I remember when I got him a pair of mouse ears from Disneyland that said "Ed" on the back and he thought it was the coolest thing ever...

Then I wonder what The Kid and I are going to do the next day...

Then I think that we'll probably go to the dog park and I wish we could go when there were a bunch of dogs, but not so many owners because HOLY FUCK those dog people will talk your freaking ear off about the dumbest details of their animals. And it's ALL they can talk about. Christ on a cracker, they're like people with babies, they think everyone is enthralled by hearing about the haircut their fucking poodle got three years ago...

Then I wonder if those people will be less likely to talk to me if most of my tattoos are visible*, because the one time I accidentally wore my Precious Moments "Jesus is the only way" t-shirt (an eBay impulse buy and only worn ironically, thankyouverymuch), everyone was way too friendly to me...

Then I remember how my friend, Leena, used to love Precious Moments stuff, so much so that she even had a little Precious Moments couple on her wedding cake...

Then I think it's been a while since I've seen Leena and that I should call her so we can have lunch together or something...

Then I remember what a long freaking drive it is down to Orange County, not to mention all the traffic and such...

And so on and so forth for... I don't know, an hour or more before I realize I'm still awake and it's probably after 1AM and I know The Kid will be up at the crack of dawn and I think I should really take an Ambien to get to sleep, but if I take one right then, I won't be able to wake up at a reasonable hour...

But if I take an Ambien at a reasonable hour and manage to refrain from calling, texting, emailing, IM-ing, blogging and shopping while under the influence of it, it gives me the most unbelievably delicious sleep imaginable just by virtue of smothering my brain in a big wool blanket so it shuts down for a bit.

I just wish there were an Awake-bien that could just as quickly and effectively dial down my brain during the day.


* it turns out that these old people are so dog-centered that they probably wouldn't notice if I were wearing a bra on my head - they're still just as likely to tell me the story *again* of how they got Bailey at the Humane Society and how he sleeps on their bed usually, but sometimes he likes to sleep downstairs and when he does, he sleeps right next to the front door with his chewed up tennis ball...

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