Talk About Name Your Poison

I woke at 5 today, bent on doing every crazy thing on my list: writing a column; writing here; editing fat sections of the new audio book that I’m rushing to production; recording all that; looking in on a funeral; seeing the Fitness Together people for my neck; sitting for three hours as the dentist begins the delicate process of covering two of my tender-as-eggshell Irish teeth; food-shopping; ironing;: bringing down the summer clothes from the attic if you can believe that on June the 11th; making dinner; and going to a three hour meeting.

All that, only here I was at dawn with some especially bad neck pain and so at 6:00 popped a couple of Tylenol AND NOW FEEL A HUNDRED TIME WORSE. I keep falling asleep as I type and God that last post was full of errors which took me forever to fix because my eyes just keep closing after every word I type. That part is sort of funny because then I have a whole lovely dream about that one word and can you imagine how boring, dreaming about conjunctions and prepositions? Dreaming about conjunctions and prepositions that are spelled wrong?

A sinking sense of certainty came to me a minute ago and I went back into the bathroom to check out the sink area where my worst fears were confirmed. Sure enough, the two capsules I took were Tylenol PMs.

I guess I should lie down and sleep - I seem to have no choice but to sleep - what about the dentist? and the summer clothes? And that interesting column about the Green Fairy which is what they used to call absinthe and talk about Name Your Poison and what a way to go- dead of a head injury sustained  by toppling clear our of her chair sound asleep!