Diphy, The Omni Elixir

For those of you who have been sharing a bed with me recently (it doesn't count if you leave after sex, Wanda), you may want to skip down a few paragraphs as you probably know all of this already. For the rest of you, read on, and keep in mind that my Thursday slot is still open. All services come with a complimentary walk of shame. Make your reservations now, at www.humpahenner.com.

Over the past few weeks I have experienced a gradual degradation in the quality and quantity of sleep. Why you ask? I dont know I reply. I have always had a simple formula for a good nights sleep:

(X*Y*Z)/(S*O) = R * q

Where:
X = physical exhaustion
Y = mental exhaustion
Z = mild cerebral hemorrhaging
S = stress
O = inflicted or induced pain (the Owie factor)
R = sleep
q = Quarelle's constant, which is 1.

But now all thats gone to shit. Take last night for example, perhaps the worst bout of insomnia I have ever had. After a long day at work, followed by a tiring callback audition for Rainbow Tribe (not a gay coalition), running on only one cup of coffee and a Lean Cuisine, my physical and mental exhaustion was at a high. Admittedly my stress levels are mildly high, but not any higher than before, and to balance that out I rammed my head into the bedpost repeatedly to get those cerebral juices flowing.

After all that, one would think there'd be no problem nodding off to dreamland, snoring like a obtuse Jew with irritiable bowel syndrome on Rosh Hashanah...but NO. Nothing. I lie there, staring at the ceiling with my hand down my pants, wondering why I can't even yawn.

I go through the gauntlet of sleep aids I have previously employed. The first and most obvious is food. I scarf down some leftover roast chicken ($6.99 at Shaws, good shit) and some Ruby Red grapefruit juice, then wait for the food coma to take effect.

Nothing.

Next, some light reading. And by reading, I mean listening, since I now refuse to read anything I can listen to while multitasking instead. I'm currently enveloped in a book called The Secret Life of Bees, a story about a white Southern girl during the Civil Rights movement, who runs away from home and lives with a family of black sisters that run a honey business. Magical. Magically 10 hours long. Anyways, I get through Chapter 13, when she comes to terms with the reality that her mother left her as a young child.

Nothing.

Next on the list is the white noise. They say it works on babies, so why not Asians? I downloaded it on Limewire, meaning I could very well be listening to someones heart murmurs. Lying there, I wonder if I'm subliminally learning Swedish, or regulating my menstrual cycle.

Nothing.

Finally, sleep hypnosis. Again, downloaded from Limewire. Limewire rocks. This has definitely worked for me in the past. Though not so much the hypnosis part, where the man (who sounds like he has low self esteem and a brain deficiency) counts down from ten to zero, telling you to do things like imagine a soft mist around your body, and tell your mind to slow down...sloww.....downn.....its time for your mind....to slowwwwww.......dowwnnnnnnnn......send me money.......and slowwwww........dowwwnnnnnnnnnn.

No, it really just bores me to sleep. But tonight?

Nothing.

So I give food coma another shot, combined with late night television. Okay, so leftover KFC and Conan O'Brien probably isnt the best way to fall asleep. It's just too damn stimulating. Especially when Conan is being supremely funny:

Clips from WALKER: TEXAS RANGER
The Other Guy: What is it?
Walker: It's Vietnamese, but it's in some kind of code...
The Other Guy: Code?
Walker: It's been encrypted.
The Other Guy: Well what do we do now?
Walker: I don't know, but we should find Sumyung Gai
The Other Guy: Sumyung Gai? Why?
Walker: Because he speaks Vietnamese....and is a computer genius.

How convenient. Alas, no sleep. In a fit of frustration, I peel my naked ass off the couch and throw some pants on. Off to the 24 Hour Brooks pharmacy.

Why is it that I always, ALWAYS get stuck behind the slowest person at the checkout? It's 2 in the morning. There are only three people in the store...me, the guy behind the counter, and the oldest woman in the world between us. Regardless. I purchase a pack of Reds, and my new friend Diphy.

Diphy, short for diphenhydramine hydrochloride comes with with my old buddy Ace, short for for acetaminophen. They make me happy. Well, then don't. Thats just about the ONLY thing they don't do. I did a little background check on my buddy Diphy:

Diphenhydramine hydrochloride is given to people who are experiencing allergic reactions, such as itchy skin, runny nose, cough, hives (types of skin eruptions), other skin rashes, and hay fever (allergic reactions to trees, grass, or weed pollens). Because diphenhydramine hydrochloride causes sleepiness, it is also taken by people who are having difficulty sleeping. It is also given to relieve motion sickness and nausea, vomiting, and dizziness that is unrelated to motion sickness. Furthermore, it gives you the power to fly, become invisible, and shoot mind bullets.

Doesn't that sound lovely? Aside from allowing me to sleep, it also protects me from...well...pretty much anything.

Umm...I forgot what the point of this whole entry was. So I'm just going to stop now. Toodles!