Ambien Is a Lie
Laying in my bed at 8:30 in the morning, wide awake and listening to the gentle ebb and flow of Paulitico's breathing I find myself cursing the name of those little white oblongs that promise eight hours of rest with no grogginess or other unpleasant side-effects. Like the million-odd penile enlargement products out there, Ambien is a dirty, lying little trollop.
Over the past month my sleeping cycle has become more and more irregular. Lately I find it hard to get more than four hours of sleep in one go, and what precious wakelessness I do earn is troubled and useless. I'm starting to lose little parts of myself. I'm less happy to see the sun finally cleaving the winter cloud layer that blankets the Pacific Northwest for half of the year, the pussy-willows blooming outside of my bedroom window no longer strike me as darkly hilarious. Even watching a hobo scream at a yuppie for giving him food instead of drug money is less amusing. The quirky, lovable jerk that is Zeroes is being slowly buried under layer upon layer of sleepless nights and accumulated fatigue toxins. The witty banter that's become my bread and butter is being slowly replaced by a dull and sullen ache behind my eyes that gums up the flow of everything that passes through my world.
I'm starting to feel like a teenage Republican. Clearly I have to find a way out of this mess.
This is Grumbles, the anthropomorphic sleep-deprivation slug. He looks kinda crappy because I drew him in Illustrator without the aid of a tablet. These things happen from time to time.
Over the past month my sleeping cycle has become more and more irregular. Lately I find it hard to get more than four hours of sleep in one go, and what precious wakelessness I do earn is troubled and useless. I'm starting to lose little parts of myself. I'm less happy to see the sun finally cleaving the winter cloud layer that blankets the Pacific Northwest for half of the year, the pussy-willows blooming outside of my bedroom window no longer strike me as darkly hilarious. Even watching a hobo scream at a yuppie for giving him food instead of drug money is less amusing. The quirky, lovable jerk that is Zeroes is being slowly buried under layer upon layer of sleepless nights and accumulated fatigue toxins. The witty banter that's become my bread and butter is being slowly replaced by a dull and sullen ache behind my eyes that gums up the flow of everything that passes through my world.
I'm starting to feel like a teenage Republican. Clearly I have to find a way out of this mess.
This is Grumbles, the anthropomorphic sleep-deprivation slug. He looks kinda crappy because I drew him in Illustrator without the aid of a tablet. These things happen from time to time.Labels: Ambien side-effects, ennui, sleep deprivation
posted by Zeroes at 9:48 AM
2 Comments:
Wishing you peace and slumber, my friend. I miss you.
Sorry to hear about your sleeping troubles. As a reformed night-shift worker, I too have had my share of sleepless nights. A physician friend of mine says Ambien CR is actually quite good. It's fairly new so it's a bit pricey, but perhaps it would be worth a shot.
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