Sandman, Please Come A-Knockin’

July 19, 2010

Something I’ve not been good at saving is my dreams, my sleep-time meanderings. I used to remember my dreams quite easily, but quite awhile ago they began to elude me once I woke. Perhaps it was part of aging, I don’t know.

But this weird thing happened about a month ago. I was having a rough time actually sleeping and fatigue was beginning to wreak havoc, so I decided to medicate and I took an Excedrin PM.

Excedrin PM and I met back in the days when I was cocktail waitressing. All the girls would pop a couple about 2:15 a.m., as we sat down to balance our tills at the end of our shifts. By the time we finished our accounting and got home, we were good-to-go to la-la-land.

In recent years, I haven’t taken an Excedrin PM since November, 2008–a time when I was in such misery that I surrendered to just sleeping away as much time as I could.

But since then I have been E.P.M.-free, until about a month ago, I used the little blue Excedrin PM crutch to sleep through the night. And,

I remembered my dreams.

Weird. It was like some buried switch was toggled ON again.

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