Up All Night

I'm sorry for my absence yesterday, friends, but by Tuesday night it was clear that this cold and cough I've been sporting for a while now had no intention of leaving.  In protest, I decided to take the day off to rest up, which was a good idea because by the time I visited my doctor I was coughing nonstop and feeling generally awful.

Mercifully, along with the chest infection diagnosis I got, I received a prescription for Codeine cough syrup to help me get to sleep, stay asleep, and not cough so violently during the night as to wake up Joel. 

After nearly eight years of listening to him snore, I think the man has it coming, but in my weakened state I'll let that slide.

So last night, about 30 minutes before I wanted to be asleep, I took my cough medicine, made the same sour holy-crap-this-tastes-like-death face that I've made since childhood while ingesting cough syrup, and went to bed to finish watching my DVRed coverage of Mariah Carey and Nicki Minaj battling for the title of "Biggest Diva".  And right on cue, I closed my eyes.

I fell asleep.

I did not cough.

But unfortunately, I did not stay asleep.  Four hours later I woke up in an apparent attempt to dislodge one of my lungs, and discovered that while the medicine's cough-reducing power had timed out, the Codeine's near-hallucinogenic properties were still fully functional.  I coughed my way into the kitchen to get a glass of ice water, and stumbled back to my room and turned on the TV, and for an hour, fell down a rabbit-hole of Codeine-laced infomercials.

I think I tasted colors.

Sure, it might have been the fact that it was 2:30 in the morning.  It might have been the fact that my achy head and chest clouded my judgment.  But one thing is for certain...

I must have a leopard-print Snuggie.  And a matching one for the dog.

And just maybe, a few milliliters of Codeine cough syrup for Joel, just in case that snoring comes back.