Tylenol PM, you are a fickle mistress

This is the reason I am a zombie this morning.

Well, I guess I can’t blame the Tylenol PM entirely. It’s partially my fault.

See, here’s the thing about the weekends: I go to bed late Friday and Saturday, so I sleep late Saturday and Sunday in a well-intentioned attempt to get a full night’s rest. But when I sleep until 10am on Sunday morning, my body isn’t really ready to go to sleep at my normal weekday bed time. Frankly, it’s hard enough to get it to do that on weekdays.

I’ve always been a night owl. Always always always, even when I was a baby. And now that I’m an adult-type person, instead of crying, I’ll just lie there. I’ll be completely exhausted and ready for sleep, but I can’t shut my brain off. Thankfully, the Hubbster is responsible and usually wants to hit the hay around 10:30, so this routine doesn’t usually keep me up too late. Most nights I’m asleep by 11:30 or midnight. Bing bang boom, I’ve got a solid 7-7 1/2 hours of sleep. Last night was not one of those nights.

Last night was me lying there, moving around in every position I could possibly think of, fluffing and re-fluffing my pillow, opening and closing the window, counting to 100, trying to hypnotize myself, the whole she-bang (sidenote: reading the way I typed that it makes me think of William Hung singing ‘She Bangs’. Haha. I miss American Idol being good television). Anyhoo, I’m lying there for what felt like an eternity, looked at my phone, and saw that it was 12:43. I was wide awake. So I made an executive decision to pop some Tylenol PM. Don’t make that face at me. I was incredibly sore from lifting with Ally on Saturday, so I needed the pain relief, too. Seriously, she really killed me. But in a good way.

Cue me going into a coma and sleeping through my alarm. The Hubbster had to come in and wake me up at 7:30 (20 minutes after I usually force myself out of bed) when he realized I wasn’t getting up on my own. I didn’t even twitch when he got up to shower.

I’m slowly starting to feel better, but for most of the morning I’ve felt like I was hit by a bus and could fall over anywhere (including the dirty floor of the metro) and be dead asleep within seconds. The cappuccino is helping. God bless espresso.

Moral of the story: Do not take Tylenol PM when you only have 6 hours until your alarm rings. Unless you want to be a zombie.


5 thoughts on “Tylenol PM, you are a fickle mistress

  1. The only cure for zombie disease is a shovel to the brain; repeatedly. You’re merely delaying the inevitable rampage for human flesh with your espresso. Some witch doctors claim they can reverse zombieism with their magic voodoo; but let’s be honest, holistic medicine is a crock. When I caught zombie a few years back I was able to find a doctor who prescribed a bullet injection. It was unpleasant but it worked and I didn’t have to pay a specialist copay.


  2. I know all that too well. I also have trouble sleeping on Sundays. Keeping the same schedule on weekends would help, I suppose, but it is just soo hard.


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