For whatever reason, my wife has decided to perform chemical experiments on me.
Sure, what the hell, YODO right? (you only die once).
Vitamin D is one that I personally know helps with feeling blue. Within hours my mood will crawl its way out from the quagmire it typically slinks within, and upon reflection, I have to admit that I feel better.
Lately she’s been administering a new pill: Magnesium. She says it’s to help me stay asleep while she roams the halls at three am dealing with the cats and her own foibles. Fine, hand it over. Gulp.
Holy shit, what a trip!
The sleeping dreams I’m having are fantastic. They’re cogent and consistent and go on and on. What is normally a spastic-scene slap-together is now a double feature movie. Last night’s had a talking, mathematician newborn whom we somehow acquired. There was this wicked car accident (unwitnessed) which left an old girl friend’s mother hanging from a ledge. When I went to help, I pushed this columnar rock down the chasm, as I recall the image, watching it teeter and tumble amazes me still.
The variety and cinematic treatment is better than virtual reality—I’m there, participating and it’s kick-ass.
“Do you want to keep taking these?” she asks.