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Psychiatrists are not to be trusted

Conversation with Victor after I came home from my appointment with my shrink.

Victor:  So what’d your doctor say?

me:  The usual.  Still crazy.

Victor:  Well, at least you’re stable.

me:  She gave me something to kill the insomnia.  Ro-something?  I can’t remember what it’s called but it’s supposed to just knock you out completely.

Victor:  Rohypnol? Your doctor gave you roofies?

me:  I’m pretty sure my doctor didn’t give me the date rape drug.  It just sounds like rohypnol.  Wait, hang on.   There’s an actual warning on this pamphlet that you have to be careful to not accidentally have sex in your sleep.

Victor:  Your doctor gave you roofies.  Generic roofies.

me:  Wow.  I probably should have tipped her.

PS.  I took the drug and it was not roofies.  Or I’m immune to roofies.  One of those.  But, in brighter news I’m getting a lot accomplished due to not sleeping.  Like, I’m really good at drawing dinosaurs now.  And at making water-beds for cats.  And at involuntary hallucinations and forgetting where I live.

PPS.  It occurrs to me that if you don’t have insomnia you probably missed the day when I live-tweeted my hour-long attempt at making water beds for cats, so I’m going to reprint it all here.  Because the cats and I shouldn’t be the only ones to suffer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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