Freak Magnet Dave

There have been some changes going on here at work with the business partner and me the last month or two. What it boils down to is that he wants to pursue some other things and get out of the framing business which he's been doing since Jesus was a cowboy.

Of course, fear and self-doubt (close personal friends of mine) are taking their toll on my fragile mind and I haven't been able to get much in the line of sleep. I have slight anxiety during the day, but nothing out of the ordinary. It's when I'm in bed at the end of the day that my mind betrays me.

I have always been a worrier. I get it from my mother, so I come by it honestly. I will be in bed and suddenly start to think about the business.
"Can I do this alone?"
"Will customers still come in if he's not here?"
"Can I handle all of the paperwork?"
"What if something complicated comes in that I can't deal with?"
"What about all those bills?"
"Business is slow now and we've got so many bills to pay."
"Where will this money come from?"
"What if I wind up having to close?"
"What if I have to go bankrupt?"
"My God! The business is now under my own name!"
"I could lose my car...the house."

All of this comes back to my biggest fear. That I will be alone, homeless, and living on the streets. Honestly, the thought of that terrifies me.

So the past several weeks have been rough for me. I see the bills that are due, but I'm not seeing our customers coming in to pick up their work and paying. I have to remind myself that it is like this every single year at this time, and then we'll see the upswing again (knock wood). There have been a number of nights where I'd be lucky to squeeze about 3 or 4 hours of sleep in total. Usually those hours are broken up by a few all-too-alert hours.

Last week after one of these nights, The Squeeze suggested I see my doctor. Good idea, I thought. Why didn't I think of that? I'm a martyr. I suffer in silence. Well, maybe not silence. Actually I bitch about it to whoever will listen.

I called my doctor's office that morning to book an apointment for my only day off the following week. I was told there was nothing available for about 3 weeks.
"Well, that won't work for me. I need to sleep soon before I lose my mind."
"You really should book ahead."
"Thank you, I'll remember that when The Psychic Friend's Network informs me I'll be sick in three weeks." OK, I didn't say that.
"Is this stress-related?"
"It is."
"OK, then we'll get you in here somehow. Let me see what I can do."

After many attempts to get me in during my business hours which I told her wouldn't work for me, we finally got an early morning appointment with a different doctor in the medical centre.
"Would that time be ok for you?"
"I'll be up."

I spoke to a friend on the phone and she told me to get Ativan. "It shuts your mind off so you can sleep." Moments later I spoke to Weezie, who is a nurse, and she said "Oh God NO! Not that stuff. It can make you a little psychotic. Aside from that it's highly addictive. We usually give patients Imovane to help them sleep. That would be better for you."

In the meantime, my good buddy "Neen" hooked me up with a bottle of Melatonin to get me some sleep in the meantime. "One dropper of that stuff and you're out for the night." The night she gave it to me we were out having a few, so I didn't want to mix it with alcohol that night, and I did alright without it. I took it on Sunday night and Monday night, and both nights it made me feel a bit drowsy and I managed to fall asleep. Unfortunately, I would wake up about four hours later, and be on & off until it was time to get up.

Yesterday I saw the doctor, explained what was going on, and he said he'd give me a prescription to help me sleep. Imovane it is! I had the prescription filled right away and couldn't wait for bedtime. Unfortunately I had some cake work to do to prepare for my class, so I was up until just after midnight whipping up icing and prepping my cake.

I took the pill. Yuck, yuck, yuck! What a horrible taste! Three glasses of water didn't get rid of it. I went upstairs and got in bed. Worked on a Sudoku puzzle for a few minutes until I felt somewhat drowsy. I no sooner put the book and pencil on the nightstand, and the clock radio went off.

The Squeeze was in the room at the computer and he turned to me and said "You must have taken a pill last night. You even forgot to turn off the lamp beside the bed."

All I can say is "Wow". I only wish I went to bed around 10:00 instead of 12:15, but what a feeling to sleep through the night! My mouth felt a bit dry, so I grabbed the bottle of water on the nightstand and chugged it back and was hit with the foulest taste in my mouth. "What the hell did I just drink?" I thought. No, it was only water. Man, that pill's taste just keeps on giving. Even after breakfast, lunch and several bottles of water here at work I've got that taste in my mouth.

I'll be going home for dinner in two hours. Something with garlic sounds good right about now.