Just say no. Or at least "not before work"

My doctor recommended I take half of this one pill and a whole one of a certain kind of vitamin to make me feel better, to make me feel like a real person instead of one a bed-ridden woman with greasy hair, a bad complexion and smelly pajamas. I'm much too big of a neat-freak for that mess.

So, like a sucker, I bought them.

And wow. It worked -- the odd combination, the seemingly illegal mix of blue and white pills, it worked. Only, next problem ... that one half pill? It's a sleeping pill. And she recommended taking them two or three times a day.

If you've done anything like met me, crossed the street in front of me, glanced at me from across the room, you wouldn't think "that woman needs a sleeping pill." I assure you, sleeping is not the problem. I can sleep on command. Five seconds flat, zing, I'm in REM. Dreams, pillow lines on the face and all.

Standing in front of the mirror this morning, I held the half pill and the whole pill in my hand and decided one frying pan looked a lot less warm and full of oil than the other. I jumped. An hour later, I was walking around in a NyQuil-like fog at work. It was like everything I touched tingled my fingers a little -- ooh, magical highlighter! -- everything I heard was preceded by and followed with a "whooosh, whooomppsh" -- "whooosh, whooomppsh, We have a make-your-own-case on 41 Northbound, whooosh, whooomppsh." When I walked, my eyelids flirted with staying closed 'til I wondered if I was already asleep? And this was just my dream, this work thing?

A lot of people fail those pee-in-a-plastic cup tests because of drugs that produce lesser effects. Too bad for me, I wasn't one for trying drugs. Nancy Reagan and I, we're like this (crossing fingers, white man's overbite).