Conversation I had with my little sister about my chronic insomnia, which is trying to destroy me:
Lisa: So how you feeling?
me: Okay, I guess. Teetering between awesome and totally insane. I’m taking drugs to sleep, but I’m a little afraid I might become addicted.
Lisa: Taking them by the handfuls?
me: No, I put them in my wine cooler and shake it up, and then put it in my mouth so it all explodes. Like when you put mentos in diet coke.
Lisa: So…pretty much the opposite of how you’re supposed to take it.
me: In a way it’s like an injection. One that burns when it shoots out of your nose. That’s how you know it’s working. Or how you know you have a sleeping pill lodged in your nasal cavity.
Lisa: That’s not how injections work.
me: The bottle doesn’t specifically say it’s not an option.
Lisa: I’m pretty sure that if you looked it up in the medical dictionary it would have a picture of you doing that, but with a bar through it.
me: Mmm… A bar sounds really good right now.
Lisa: I’ve seen your refrigerator. I’d be more concerned about you if I thought you actually had any wine-coolers in your house.
me: I totally don’t. I’m too sleepy to go to the grocery store. Which is probably why these pills don’t work. Chronic lack of wine-coolers.
Lisa: You realize that one day someone’s going to take all this seriously and show up to your house to host an intervention, don’t you?
me: Probably. But it’ll be the closest thing I’ve ever had to a surprise party, so that’ll be nice. Plus, they’ll probably bring groceries. And –knowing my friends- wine coolers. Win-win. So I think the key here is to hit rock-bottom this week so someone brings me groceries.
Lisa: Or…maybe just find a store that delivers groceries?
me: They have those? Fuck. I have wasted my life.
Lisa: Well, just the first half.
Updated: I just called around and no one delivers groceries to my neighborhood. So I’ll be eating a liter of crack this afternoon. Please bring donuts, milk, laundry detergent and kitty litter.
Updated X 2: AND WINE COOLERS. What the hell, me? That was the whole reason for the intervention in the first place. This is exactly why I can’t be trusted to go grocery shopping.
Updated X 3: Apparently no one delivers crack to this neighborhood either. Or possibly my neighbors are just really unhelpful and want to keep all the crack delivery services to themselves. So instead I’m just watching a lot of bad tv and I’m sitting way too close to it. Please come save me from myself.
Updated X 4: Also, bring some pizza pockets. And a pan to cook pizza pockets on. And someone who knows how to cook pizza pockets.
Updated X 5: Victor just went to check the mail and came in with a quart-sized bag of pot. Which is a nice thought, but no thank you, Victor. I’m paranoid enough, thankyouverymuch. Then he explained that it wasn’t “a present”, and it came in the mail today. Turns out it’s home-made tea from my friend, Naked Jen. And it’s also a lesson to Victor about the importance of not opening packages addressed to me.
