Apparently, absurd things are done on Ambien, sometimes. It’s why I try to never, ever, ever take it if I’m not hopping right into bed with the intent to not open my eyes for at least seven more hours.
I don’t know what happened last week though, in Pennsylvania.
I was sharing a house rental with several friends with whom I’d be doing the Tough Mudder. ‘Twas the night before Mudder, and I knew I needed an Ambien. With the time change, and a schedule very different than my usual sleeping routine, I wanted to be on that course with more than an hour or two of sleep.
So, I popped an Ambien. No big deal.
That’s the last thing I remember.
In the morning, my friends had a grumpy tale to tell, though. The tale of the Sleepytime Music.
Now, first let me tell you that I cannot sleep with music playing. I know it helps some people drift off into some cozy slumber. Not me. It activates my mind and I start singing along in my head, and next thing I know I’m figuring out all my problems for the next week, worrying about the world’s biggest crises, and imagining what life would be like if only I could have a pet penguin.
“Hey, Siri. Play Sleepytime Music.”
That was the first thing they heard me yell out behind my closed door.
That was followed by the sound of some gawd-awful techno-acid-metal-rock “song” loudly blaring through my phone’s speaker.
It played. Again. And again. And again. And again.
My housemates and good friends knew I had been struggling with some emotional events for a couple days, so they decided to let it slide.
But it kept playing.
The same gawd-awful-techno-acid-metal-rock song.
Apparently two or three of them congregated outside my door at one point, not knowing how to handle the situation. Obviously I needed to vent out some heavy feelings, they reasoned. And so they let it keep playing.
But this music was awful.
And finally my friend Jerilee couldn’t take it anymore…