I took this self-portrait a few minutes ago as I prepare to take a Ambien to go to sleep tonight. After 3 weeks of getting around 3 hours of sleep total a night, I finally agreed with the ol' ball and chain to go to the doctor today.
Of course, she went with me to "support me" which is code for "I don't trust you to tell him EVERYTHING, so I'm making sure you do". By the time we left, the poor Doc must have thought I was not only in need of sleep, but a 30 day "retreat" at the closest mental institution.
Well, I've got the magic pill and praying it works. While I agreed to go to the Doctor, I didn't tell Ang the reason for my sudden rebirth in my faith of medicine:
Truth is the Red Sox are off tonight, and I figured tonight was the best chance I had to give it a whirl and get some sleep.
I sure wasn't gonna try it tomorrow with my boy Beckett going for 7-0.
It’s All His
1 day ago