This is a long story and doesn't improve upon retelling, but me and sleep have had issues for a while, since when I'm depressed, I sleep too much, and in between, have had a rather morbid terror of sleeping too much, which leads the other direction--abuse of stimulants. I honestly think the only thing that keeps me off the speedball-junkie track is my equally morbid terror of arrest and indictment. Seriously, nothing quite keeps one on the straight and narrow than A Certain Cousin's long term stays among the good Feds. So yeah. Anyway. We're going on twenty-seven hours and no sleep, which even for me is excessive, so I braved my bad memories of Ambien and asked my grandmother to borrow one of her sleeping pills.
Thing is, she has like, three kinds of sedatives. Well, two I can identify, anyway. She empties her pills into a plastic daily pill thingie, since she's on a bewildering array of prescriptions, including for her heart, which is good strategy, yes, but also kind of scary for us that can't ID pills on sight. She took three of one set and gave them to me with good wishes.
It's not that I don't trust my grandmother. I love her. I do not believe she would pull an X-Files Eve on me and feed me digitek by mistake. But. I am also me, who never accepted candy from strangers and used to cut my own Ambien script pill into quarters because of a Certain Incident We Shall Never Discuss. So. I sat down wiht three empty pill bottle and went looking up pill descriptions. By process fo elimination, we have ruled out that I'll be accidentlaly poisoned--it's definitely one fo the other two. Because I am anal, I lookd up teh side effects for both and am mostly comforted that I won't be zombie like tomorrow. I will, however, be rested. That is sounding like nirvana.
Right now, I honestly feel like I could go on in this particular form of exhausted purgatory for a very, very long time. It? Is not pretty.
Maybe add some warm milk. Hmm.
Okay, setting time, took it at 9:32 PM, now 9:50 PM, so far, no effect. I shall time this.