Hello? Ambien Walrus?!

I don't sleep. No really...I slept an HOUR AND A HALF TOTAL the other night. After much coaxing from some close friends I decided to go to the doctor. You know, cause the insomnia's only been going on for, what, ten years now? Well...this spell has been particularly long and ridiculous, so I went.

I went armed with my list of failed sleep-inducing activities, a timeline of the past four or five months, and an honest to God need to get some ZZZZ's. I got through maybe a paragraph's worth of explanation before my doctor looked at me, in shock, and told me she'd be right back.

Within 15 minutes I held in my shaky little hands an Rx for Ambien and a referral for a sleep study. 45 minutes after that (I did an awesome arm and ab workout at the gym) I walked home with my sacred little pharmacy bag.

It has been so long since I've slept normally and for a legitimate amount of time that, now that I have the little pill to put me there, I'm terrified to take it. I'm not really sure what I'm afraid of...perhaps losing the POWER I feel I have in being awake all the time. Or maybe its just all the Ambien horror stories PLUS the hilarious and extensive medication guide that came with this junk. The first item in a list of "reported activities" while on it is:

DRIVING A CAR ("sleep driving")

Are you KIDDING me?! ThankyouJesus I don't have a car. Also included in the list were (in parentheses, see my thoughts):

Making and eating food (Dear God I'm going to burn the building down)
Talking on the phone (Dear God this sounds worse than drunk dialing)
Having sex (Dear God...oh dear God)
Sleep Walking (Dear God I am going DOWN)

In talking pretty extensively with my roommate about this stuff, he has assured me that if I'm going to do any 'sleep activities' they'll generally be something I already do rather frequently. To which I responded with my list:

SLEEP WORKING OUT (or walking to the gym)
SLEEP WALKING TO MY JOB
SLEEP CLEANING MY KITCHEN
SLEEP TEXTING
SLEEP EATING KASHI GOLEAN AND PLAIN NONFAT YOGURT
SLEEP PAINTING MY NAILS
SLEEP BEATING PEOPLE UP

Obviously some of these are WAY more of a problem than others. If I wake up in my pajamas on the streets of New York because I 'ambiened' myself out of bed and to the gym or work at 2 o'clock in the morning I will be...I don't even know. Impressed? Mortified? Terrified? Amused?

Bottom line, this bottle is going untouched tonight. I think I'll have one or two last hurrah nights with my insomnia. I'm going to embrace it and appreciate it, love it and cherish it. And then I'm going to kick it outta bed like I do to most men (what what?!).

Okay and now for one more comic...cause both of these made me smile big time.

Exile.

Growing up in Seattle, my family had a GORGEOUS backyard. Close to the house we had an awesome swing set and sand box that my father built and painted blue (per my request). The real gem of the property though, was the huge ravine beyond. We're talking true nature here people...it was a freaking forest with a creek at the bottom.

The extent of my ravine experience was limited to making up stories about being chased by horrible villains on the hike down to the bottom and then scaring myself enough that I had to bust ass back up to be in view of the house where I felt safe again (weirdo kiddo).

At least, this was the extent...until my mother came up with new 'family' protocol. One fine Spring day Mom announced that Daniel and I would be spending at least an hour outside, every afternoon, for the rest of summer vacation, starting right that minute. Daniel was thrilled and headed right out. I, on the other hand, was PISSED. I tried ignoring her...I tried mouthing off (which was a REALLY stupid idea. I believe the hour turned into an hour and a half...)...I tried pouting, pleading and begging. I may have tried to convince her to let me call my Dad. I got sent out anyway, and both the front and back door were locked behind me.

I gave in, but not for long. After awhile I convinced Daniel to help me yell loud enough that Mom would hear us from inside the house (what can I say, I've always been good at getting people to jump onboard my missions...). She came out on the deck (two stories up from where we were) demanding to know what we were screaming about. I couldn't think of anything except to say I was dying of hunger.

What happened next never fails to amaze me. It shut me up then, and it would shut me up now. My mother walked back into the house and a few minutes later emerged with a bucket. The big industrial paint sized bucket. We watched her fill it with some food and water, tie one side of a rope to the bucket handle and tie the other side to one of the deck posts.

She then proceeded to lower the bucket from the deck to the backyard, presenting us with a full spread of nutritious food. I kid you not. My mother exiled us. She exiled us for a few hours every afternoon for an entire summer.

I was dumbfounded. I kind of still am...15 years later.

Not Solving the Problem...

I don't get a lot of sleep. Not because I don't try...believe me. This has been going on for almost ten years now and rarely do I feel sleepy during the day. I'll go on 4-5 hours of non-continuous sleep (20-90 minutes at a time) for a few weeks and by a few I mean six to eight. Then I crash. For 3 or 4 days. I still don't legitimately sleep at night, but my afternoon nap goes from 30 minutes to THREE HOURS. And night time sleep happens in longer segments too...occasionally up to 4 hours at a time. Holy Batman.

This is the beginning of a new cycle. I'm sitting here. At 2:20 am. I am not tired. Not in the least. So what the hell do I do to try and get sleepy? You might want to take a seat, I'm about to blow your mind.

Here's what I've done TONIGHT.

-I cleaned the bathroom floor. By hand. On my hands and knees. Every time I've done this the floor is gorgeous...and I'm still not sleepy. Fail.

-I organized all the baking supplies, spices and herbs in the cabinet. And made an inventory list. Not sleepy. Fail.

-I've been reading. Books. Various credible (and not so credible) news sources. Scholarly articles. Manuals (if I'm really desperate). Sometimes works. Not tonight. Fail.

-I swept, mopped and lysol-ed. The apartment. All of it. Now my apartment smells like shit tons of cleaning supplies. If the hour doesn't induce sleep, shouldn't the chemical fumes? No. Fail.

-ONLINE SHOPPING PARTAY!!!! Which means opening up a double digit number of tabs...filling 'shopping carts' with ridiculous amounts of WANTMUSTHAVE items...and then not actually purchasing them. I suppose this is more of 'quiet' game to see how much money I could spend in any one sitting if I had all the dollars in the world. It's sick. I can't admit this number. Noooot sleepy. Fail.

-Chug cup after cup of calming tea. Chamomile. Calming? Maybe? If I squint my eyes and try really hard. Fail.

-I have been returning emails. Dear God I hope the Chair of the MPS program I just emailed doesn't look at the timestamp and judge. Or question. Productive, yes...helping me get to sleep, no. Fail.

-Do. My. Hair. I swear to you, while most days at work my hair looks like a drunk ten year old did it, at 2 am...it's truly impressive the things I can create. A skill level that does not scream 'tired' even a little. Fail.

-I just made a very detailed tasks list for every day between tomorrow and the following Monday. They're all on pretty turquoise post its, lined up equidistant from each other on my desk. I f'ing measured.

And now I am writing. And watching RickRossTV on YouTube (oh yes, this exists and yes...it is as awesomely bad as you think). I have to stop writing for tonight. RickRossTV needs all my attention right now...total derailment. Shiny things. Rick Ross's hilarious beard. Big things poppin'...