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.

On repeat.

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.

And playing.

And playing.

The same gawd-awful-techno-acid-metal-rock song.


And again.

And again.

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.

Just awful.

And finally my friend Jerilee couldn’t take it anymore…