Damn Zolpidem, You Scary!

For those not aware, Zolpidem is the poor-man's Ambien.  Or rather, it's what your insurance company will stick you with unless your doctor specifies "No Substitutions Permitted" on the script he gives to you. 

Ambien lets me sleep.  Zolpidem lets me sleep with some effed up dreams.  Seriously.  Last night I dreamed that I falsified a friend's child's birth certificate and claimed she stole my baby.  I woke up going "I don't even know anyone named Gina in real life!  What the hell Zolpidem?"

I normally take Ambien (proper) and Klonapin, but have been sparing with my Klonapin because I can't get a refill until Monday.  I'm pretty much in the "Eff That!" category now.

Feline Overlord is Not Happy

In other news, I woke up at 8:30 today and actually went downstairs, fed my furry overlords (Mojo, Nibbler, Angus.  The four-footed pooping machines that I am positive refer to us merely as "Food Giver" in their feline venacular).  I cooked breakfast for myself and stayed downstairs a whole 10 minutes before retreating to my fortress of solitude.  Go me!



I promise not ta stink up yer car
with me stinky pirate filth.



What?  Shut up, I'm celebrating the little accomplishments today.  Ethan is at Grandma's and Chris is somewhere in Bath, NC playing Pirate Invasion.  Damn, he'd better not stink up my car again.

This afternoon I am actually going to go outside. On purpose. To water my flowers.  And then I will beat a hasty retreat and count the hours until the new Doctor Who premieres tonight.

"Perhaps it is time I played Laser Chase with the Feline Creatures to
re-establish the dominant life form in this house!"