Please Excuse My Patient; Bitch Be Trippin’ Balls
If I could have a sincere heart-to-heart discussion with my medicine bottles, I’m sure I would reprimand them for looking so similar despite the fact that they hold two very different mind-altering drugs.
You see, when I, in a sleep-deprived haze of stupidity, picked up what I thought was the right medication, I instead was putting into my face a powerful prescription sleeping agent with street value due to its hallucinogenic effects. Oh yes, thank you, dear Zolpidem, for making my Monday an absolutely terrific example of why I don’t do drugs.
The fact that you made my 9:00am Ethics midterm a slur of unrecognizable (what I assume to have been) words drooling down the page, while at the same time also managing to cause me to twitch, startle and squeak in response to your silly phantasms, truly caused me much joy. Not to mention the fact that, in my delirium, walking became such a comedy as to allow me the pleasure of the lovingly judgmental stares of my peers.
At the very least, it did intrigue those around me to see a girl slowly walking backwards in a circle or two before confusedly continuing on her way in what appears to be a drunken swagger. I don’t judge, dear Zolpidem; I don’t judge. You were simply trying to do your job, I know! I love you all the same. And luckily I did get a letter addressed to my Ethics professor stating that I was tripping some serious shit and that that ought to be taken into consideration when calculating my final debilitating midterm grade.
I also got thrown up on this weekend! Well, only my feet, but it was still an experience!
It smells like popcorn, and nice to meet you!