Ambien, we need to talk

I appear here in the bedroom around 2200 hrs. and reach for that bottle of "snooze happy and long", more commonly called Ambien. The little white football shaped pill rolls lobsided down the sides of the pill bottle where it is caught in the lid of the container. I pick it up between thumb and forefinger, then bring it to my mouth were it rests on my tongue, ready for it's trip where it will coax me to follow in about twenty minutes.

Now the fun starts. It's been twenty minutes since I've swallowed that little white football shaped snooze helper and suddenly I am craving a bowl of Gumbo.   I can do this. Maybe not well, but it is doable.

I move my feet off the bed and into my sandals. Hey, this is going grrrrrrreat. I stand up and note that things are quickly slippin away. My balance being one of them. I wobble toward the door, the door jams are rough as I scrape them passing through. Just yesterday those doors were plenty wide enough to get through without any discomfort. I reach the hall and place my hands on each side of the walls and follow it around till I reach the kitchen. This part should be easy. Everything is cooked and it's only a matter of getting it ready for the micorwave. No rice; I'll substitute Ritz crackers for the rice and, oh hey, where is the potato salad? There! In the bright red bowl, the potato   salad is saved in. Now a big   bowl of gumbo has been heated, the potato salad globbed on top of it and a spoon resting on the lip of the bowl. I'm ready to navigate back to the bedroom with my feast.

The return trip was much like the previous walk which was more like a stumble, protection of the bowl of gumbo the most important mission.

Success. Did you doubt me? I have enough time to eat this gumbo before I fall flat out and into the stew. I think I have overstayed my welcome. Though I haven't broken anything or had to be picked up off the floor, it's time I give it up for the night and prepare to crash right here. C ya tomorrow.