<%@LANGUAGE="JAVASCRIPT" CODEPAGE="1252"%> Whisky Pants
     
     
     

Look, I'm not doing this for you, but for my own dark and twisted reasons. Oh, and because everyone else is doing it.

 
 

April 19, 2005

can't sleep. clown'll eat me.

Serious Simpsons fans out there might recognize my title right away. It was either that, or "dances with ambien".

As I get older, the insomnia worsens. There doesn't appear to be a serious health reason, though I'm sure the medicine prescribed for my allergies doens't help. All I know is that I can't sleep more than a couple hours without some help. I've tried earplugs, sleep sound machines, limiting all caffeine intake to before 2 pm, limiting alcohol intake, watching what I eat, taking hot showers/baths, lavendar linen spray, not exercising after 7 pm, Tylenol PM, sominex, nytol, nyquil, and ambien. To name a few.

So, the doctor is trying out a long-term sleep aid (lunesta) on me and it seems to be helping. Although, the dreams have been surreal in the extreme. I've dreamt of car engines that drive themselves (albeit poorly), being saved by Elvis from a lightning storm, and being Queen (no idea of what, but the King was hot and I got to be imperious with everyone else, which was wicked satisfying).

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