I haven't written in decades. Or so it seems. But I finally have a TRUE "Larrielou" moment to share. I've been suffering from insomnia for a few weeks now. And given that I'm in the business of saving lives, sleepiness on the job isn't exactly a good thing. So one of the doctors gave me a script for temazepam. The instructions were to take one, and if there had been no effect within half an hour, to take another. Last night was the first time the first didn't work. So, after lying and tossing and turning and swearing and relaxing and god knows what else, I took the other. Well. At first it was just the doorway. I just kept walking backwards and forwards into the door frame (either side). Back, thump. Forward, thump. Then I needed to pee. So to the toilet I went, tripping on everything in my way. I sat on the toilet, only to be woken at some point, to make the announcement that I was, in fact, asleep, and would be far more comfortable in bed. "I haven't gone yet" was my reply, and I was left alone. Until the next visit. "I haven't gone yet!" I said, exhasperated. Finally I "went", and headed back to bed, and hit myself on every available surface on the way. And that's when I got it into my head that I NEEDED to call work. About ducks. Ducks. I dialled nonsensical numbers into my phone, and I listened intently, but couldn't hear any voices. So I'd dial some more numbers - this went on for some time. I NEEDED to talk to work about DUCKS. I can only hope that I didn't actually call work (or anyone else for that matter). I woke up this morning wearing a purple midriff asymetrical top. I looked down, and said "What the hell am I wearing??!" It was then that I realised they were my underpants. My head was through one leg hole and my arm was through another. So. My advice. If you need sleeping tablets at any stage, just stick to one. You never know when those ducks will hit.
