Thursday 6 October 2011

Warning: Never buy sleeping pills that look like Smarties!


My Gmail Inbox the day after my attempted meeting with Mr. Maybe contained not one, not two, but five emails from him:

7:40:  I wish I had got your message yesterday....
Give me a day and I will be there....

9:30:  Why don’t you go onto your mail earlier in the day?? You are the tease ....... Mmmm, we will see who makes who beg....  if only you had an idea......

11:50:  I will meet you any time for an introductory drink if you give me more than 30 minutes’ warning....

13:20:  Plans for the weekend?

14:00:  ..... Oh my, lol ...Come on, open your damn e-mails.....

I was tempted. So tempted to meet him. But I was totally fucked up on this particular morning (well … early afternoon really).

I felt like my head was encased in cotton wool, like I was wading through concrete.  Pity.  Otherwise it would have been the perfect day to meet him (yes, owing very much in part to a whole lot of steamy sexting sessions with Sharky-Shark).  Zombie because the previous night I tried to break my crazy sleeping pattern. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been staying up until sunrise and then crashing, only to wake up again at midday.

Unfortunately, living in a new place, I don’t have my usual contacts – like a chemist I’ve known all my life and can ask for anything (without a prescription).  As I found out in the worst possible way yesterday afternoon when I went to the chemist.  I walked up to the prescription counter, explained my dilemma to the guy in the white coat there and asked if he could give me a couple of sleeping pills to get my sleeping pattern back to normal.  He came back with a packet that looked suspiciously like Smarties, but promised me (despite my vocal misgivings) that they would work.

Hmmm, I was sceptical. After all, I do have a very high tolerance for drugs. But there were 12 pills in the packet so … whatever. If he said they would work, I was not exactly in a position to start demanding hardcore drugs from a new chemist (first impressions and all).  As I made my way to the cashier, I cursed the fact that I was living in the Midlands (the province I live in is referred to – rather aptly - as The Last British Outpost.  There stood two old (er) women, some one’s grandmother, very proper and very Midlands (read: Very Correct, Very Stiff Upper Lip, Very Christian).  Now how on earth could I ask them for, say, Lube or condoms? I think they would have fallen over right there in front of me. And I know myself too well – I would have been too embarrassed to EVER go in there again. And, since this is one of only two chemists in the very small town I am living in at the moment, I am SO not chancing that!  So I left only with (what still suspiciously looked like) a packet of Smarties.

Around midnight, as much as I wanted to stay up smoking / reading / writing / dancing / getting stoned, I didn’t.  Instead, I took three of these pills, settled down and waited the supposed 20 minutes that these pills supposedly need to take effect.  I guess I drifted off because suddenly I woke up. But I had only been asleep for about an hour.

What the hell is this? I just got ripped off by a goddamn chemist for Christ’s sake! I do not believe this! I lay there cursing the guy in the white coat who had served me (bad service dude … B-A-D!).

Come 3 a.m. and I was still awake. So I took another two, tossed and turned for what felt like forever but must have fallen asleep eventually because when I woke up it was 12:30 noon.

Fuck! I went to bed 12 hours ago to try and fix my sleeping pattern and be up by 7 or 8 am … but here I was, back to Square One.  Or actually a couple of steps back from Square One. 

Because when I got out of bed … Man! I could I hardly move. I felt like I had been whacked over the head with a sledgehammer. These pills were the pits! I felt totally disorientated and groggy and leaden down with Jelly Legs and a heavy head.

So there I was, wanting so badly to send a message to Mr. Maybe to meet up. But feeling so totally and utterly out of it that I can hardly bring myself to pull on a pair of jeans and go and buy milk, let alone meet up with a potential lover.

Urgh! What a bummer.  So … Horizontal Day for me. Just not the kind I had envisaged.  

Oh bugger!  Off to bed again. These pills seriously f**ked me up (and not in a good way).

x

“I love to sleep. Do you? Isn't it great? It really is the best of both worlds. 
You get to be alive and unconscious.”


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