The Sleep Deprivation Continues
Well, now I've proven that my body is immune to BOTH Exedrin and Tylenol PM. Last night I couldn't fall asleep (shocking) because I was just sore - the kind of generic sore that comes from hoisting boxes of Band-Aids up two flights of stairs. I figured it was the pain that was keeping me awake - 'cause you know, I haven't got time for the pain - and gulped down two of those big blue suckers. Nada. It didn't even help with the PAIN! If you're going to fail to make me pass out like the cheap date that I am, than at least do something about the pain. Bastards. Today I picked up some Tylenol PM, hoping that it would do the trick. And yet, here I am. Inexplicably wide awake, yet exhausted beyond belief.
I thought I'd regale you with the hilarious tale of how it took me 20 minutes to order a pizza on Sunday night. Since all our plates, etc., were packed away in boxes and we were still trying to dig out of the chaos, there would be nomicrowaving cooking of any sort. Takeout to the rescue!
Our new neighborhood is fairly posh. We are not posh. But the neighborhood is. We live in the "wannabe posh" section of the neighborhood which is fine by me. It seems that posh people don't openly admit to eating pizza, because I've only seen one pizza place and that was in a posh little mini-strip mall with one of those ultra-posh names like Soothing Meadows or Whitby's Crossings. And as I drove by it, I thought, "I should remember the name of that place." It wasn't the usual big guys - but (I think?) a smaller chain. Maybe a local chain? Who knows.
We didn't have phone or DSL service Sunday night, so I couldn't type in "pizza" and "posh wannabe place" in the Yahoo! Yellow Pages and hope to have the name of the place revealed to me. Good Lord! What in the HAIL did we do before the Internet? How did we exist? Mr. J. said, "There are Yellow Pages in the garage if you want to flip through them." Not exactly what I wanted to do - how lazy are you when your fingers don't even want to do the walking!? But they did. And now my wee fingers are all tuckered out.
First of all, who the hell is eating all this pizza? How are there approximately 80 million pizza places in a 10-mile-radius? Pages of pizza listings. And yet! Only one in this stinkhole of a town that I now live in. I called a few places. First place: The phone rang and rang and rang (OMG - I just realized! What in the HAIL did we do before cell phones? All hail the gods of modern technology. Forgive me for recently cursing you) and no one picked up. Second place: "We don't deliver there." What? The Lexus-SUV driving-soccer-moms aren't good tippers? I can't believe that. Mr. J. suggested I call information and ask about the place in our 'hood. "What's it called again?" He said he thought it was called Pizza Johnny's. I wasn't sure that was exactly it, but it was Pizza Some Guy's Name. I call Verizon 411. Name and city please. There's no listing for Pizza Johnny's. "Okay, wait! Don't go!" I begged. At this point I was starving. (Hey, maybe that's why I hallucinated). I was desperate. Then I got engaged in one of the dumbest conversations of my life. (If the Verizon operator has a blog, you can bet there's a story about the idiot who didn't know the name of the restaurant for which they wanted the phone number.)
Me: How about Pizza Tommy's?
Verizon Operator: No listing.
Me: Um, Pizza Joey's?
VO: No.
Me: Okay, could you just try Pizza Jimmy's?
VO: Sigh.
Me (Just randomly naming men's names in hopes she'll stop me): Pizza Timmy's! No, wait, um, Pizza Eddie's!
VO: No ma'am. No listing.
Poor woman. She should get promoted just for not hanging up on me.
I finally found a place one town over that 1.) Answered their phone, 2.) Was still open and 3.) Was willing to take my money. I was so proud of myself that after 20 minutes I had finally managed to order myself a pizza like a big girl until she said, "Oh - we're not doing deliveries tonight." I was completely flabbergasted and confused. "I didn't know you guys didn't deliver anymore." She said, "Oh, we do. Just not tonight." Now I thought I got it. "Oh, you don't deliver on Sundays," I said. "No, we do. Just not tonight." Mystifying! And par for the course after the week I've had.
And now, ladies and germs, I am going to try and get me some shut-eye. (So tired I just typed shut-up. Which would actually be a great thing to have. I'm gonna get me some shut up.) Please keep your fingers crossed and send me sleepy thoughts!
I thought I'd regale you with the hilarious tale of how it took me 20 minutes to order a pizza on Sunday night. Since all our plates, etc., were packed away in boxes and we were still trying to dig out of the chaos, there would be no
Our new neighborhood is fairly posh. We are not posh. But the neighborhood is. We live in the "wannabe posh" section of the neighborhood which is fine by me. It seems that posh people don't openly admit to eating pizza, because I've only seen one pizza place and that was in a posh little mini-strip mall with one of those ultra-posh names like Soothing Meadows or Whitby's Crossings. And as I drove by it, I thought, "I should remember the name of that place." It wasn't the usual big guys - but (I think?) a smaller chain. Maybe a local chain? Who knows.
We didn't have phone or DSL service Sunday night, so I couldn't type in "pizza" and "posh wannabe place" in the Yahoo! Yellow Pages and hope to have the name of the place revealed to me. Good Lord! What in the HAIL did we do before the Internet? How did we exist? Mr. J. said, "There are Yellow Pages in the garage if you want to flip through them." Not exactly what I wanted to do - how lazy are you when your fingers don't even want to do the walking!? But they did. And now my wee fingers are all tuckered out.
First of all, who the hell is eating all this pizza? How are there approximately 80 million pizza places in a 10-mile-radius? Pages of pizza listings. And yet! Only one in this stinkhole of a town that I now live in. I called a few places. First place: The phone rang and rang and rang (OMG - I just realized! What in the HAIL did we do before cell phones? All hail the gods of modern technology. Forgive me for recently cursing you) and no one picked up. Second place: "We don't deliver there." What? The Lexus-SUV driving-soccer-moms aren't good tippers? I can't believe that. Mr. J. suggested I call information and ask about the place in our 'hood. "What's it called again?" He said he thought it was called Pizza Johnny's. I wasn't sure that was exactly it, but it was Pizza Some Guy's Name. I call Verizon 411. Name and city please. There's no listing for Pizza Johnny's. "Okay, wait! Don't go!" I begged. At this point I was starving. (Hey, maybe that's why I hallucinated). I was desperate. Then I got engaged in one of the dumbest conversations of my life. (If the Verizon operator has a blog, you can bet there's a story about the idiot who didn't know the name of the restaurant for which they wanted the phone number.)
Me: How about Pizza Tommy's?
Verizon Operator: No listing.
Me: Um, Pizza Joey's?
VO: No.
Me: Okay, could you just try Pizza Jimmy's?
VO: Sigh.
Me (Just randomly naming men's names in hopes she'll stop me): Pizza Timmy's! No, wait, um, Pizza Eddie's!
VO: No ma'am. No listing.
Poor woman. She should get promoted just for not hanging up on me.
I finally found a place one town over that 1.) Answered their phone, 2.) Was still open and 3.) Was willing to take my money. I was so proud of myself that after 20 minutes I had finally managed to order myself a pizza like a big girl until she said, "Oh - we're not doing deliveries tonight." I was completely flabbergasted and confused. "I didn't know you guys didn't deliver anymore." She said, "Oh, we do. Just not tonight." Now I thought I got it. "Oh, you don't deliver on Sundays," I said. "No, we do. Just not tonight." Mystifying! And par for the course after the week I've had.
And now, ladies and germs, I am going to try and get me some shut-eye. (So tired I just typed shut-up. Which would actually be a great thing to have. I'm gonna get me some shut up.) Please keep your fingers crossed and send me sleepy thoughts!
Labels: Baby's First Breakdown
posted by Teacher lady | 3:19 AM
10 Comments:
What an amusing story. I always thought that all these pizza places around the country was the #1 reason for our obesity problem. Have you tried counting pizza slices to put you asleep?
Sounds like you need a hot soaky bath with scented body wash... (modern-day Calgon commercial!).
Better yet, you need a DAY OFF with absolutely no responsibilities.
good lord, am i ever with you.
sleepless night right HERE.
gawwwddddarrrgh...i'm so tired but yet so unable to sleep. gah.
I've sometimes wondered what people did before the Internet and cell phones, too. Ye- yellow Pages? What's that?
Medications that "may cause drowsiness" usually have no effect on me. Except Tylenol PM. I took two for a headache and they knocked my ass out COLD. Hope you find something that works for you.
I thought of you yesterday when I took some allergy medication at work. I try not to take meds unless I'm really "in a bad way" but I thought my co-workers might stab me if they heard me snort, sneeze, or sniffle one more time. My eyelids became heavy and I wanted to lay my head on the keyboard. Unfortunately, I could not.
Maybe I can send some of that allergy med your way?
So, you mean after all of that you didn't even GET pizza?! Ridiculous! I think I would have had a meltdown at that point.
Did you take the excedrin and the tylenol pm together? The caffeine in the excedrine may have kept you up.
I love your story about the pizza. I've done similar things regarding takeout- I've been meaning to write an entry about my Mexican experience. Pizza Jerry's? Pizza Sal's? Pizza Vittorio's?
Tylenol PM is one of my favorite substances--too bad it doesn't work for you. But here's a fun fact: it's actually tylenol and benadryl. The only difference is that they make the pill blue, because everyone knows that blue is a sleepy color. Don't throw it out; it'll come in handy next time you have a cold. Since it doesn't put you to sleep, you can even take it during the day. (Shopping tip: always look at the active ingredients on medicine packages. Very nearly everything in the whole cold/fever/pain aisle is just different combinations of the same five [or six] medicines--aspirin, tylenol, or advil, [or aleve, but that only comes in one kind anyway] and sudafed or benadryl--in different colors and shapes. All sinus medicine is yellow, but it's the exact same thing as allergy medicine, which is pink, which is the same thing as sleepytime medicine, which is blue. Unfortunately, even knowing this, I still often feel much better after buying a product that has my specific symptom in the name.)
And I was going to say, I'm pretty sure Excedrin is the one that has caffeine in it. (I think it's aspirin and caffeine, but it might be tylenol and caffeine.) Since Lauren also mentioned the caffeine, I bet I'm right. So I'm not surprised that didn't help, but I am a bit surprised that the Tylenol PM didn't overpower it.
Oh, el grace. I am cringing right now. CRINGING.
I completely understand the pizza thing. When we moved into this house, we called around to find what pizza place delivered. They all asked the same question: "Is your street below Smith Ave? Then we don't deliver there." I finally asked the third one, "Do you know who does deliver here?" He made a noise of disgust and said, "No one." So apparently poor folks in the hood aren't supposed to eat pizza either.
We did finally find the only place that delivers here - a small, independent restaurant that makes great pizza AND Greek food. So nyah to Pizza Hut.
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