mmmm…. drugs. To hell with moral fortitude. Give me the sleeping pill. While I’m at it, give me the pill that makes me loose 50 pounds, turns me back into a runner (post 50 pounds), styles my hair every morning and makes my cat less obnoxious at night.
In the meantime, the pill that helps me sleep through the night is a good start.
This must be an extreme situation because I’m pill-phobic. I hate taking a pill for anything. The moment it becomes vital and I succumb to the situation, my dark reptilian brain starts calculating how to stop it.
It’s not the pill itself or it’s affects. It’s the dependency. Now, if I could only have that same relationship with food.
Nah, I’d rather it be a healthy relationship.
Maybe there’s a pill I can take.
Susan Scot Fry
Update… Except ibuprofen. I eat that stuff like skittles.