Yak

I think, after 28 years, I have finally managed the art of puking on command. Yes, that's right. I can puke anytime I want to!

Don't worry, I won't give you lots of gory details.

I've had a really bad week's sleep. I'm trying really hard not to take anything to help me nod off (we all know what happened the last time I kept the Ambien on my nightstand) and have been trying to go it alone. Lavender and chamomile oils on my wrists, lots of exercise, cool environment, all the other goodies I've mentioned before. (No, not those kinds of goodies. (Sorry, listening to a Janet Evonovich in the car.)) Last night, though yes, it was Saturday, I was up until 3:30a. I was screwing around on the computer (aka working on "homemade" Christmas gifts on Kodakgallery) and finally called it quits at 2a, long after I should have. I have a business trip to San Fran in 3 days and then 10 days in Michigan, where I'll be functioning on the Eastern time zone, meetings and all. So I set my alarm to 8:45a this morning planning to get up no matter what time I fell asleep. OK, so I probably logged 6 hours. Not bad, really. Just not on the schedule I'd like. I don't think any of my prospects would be open to a meeting at midnight when I'm amazingly wide awake.

So you get the drift - bad week, stressing about the holidays and some crazy messages and signals I've gotten lately. Not enough sleep. I did amazingly well today. Didn't consider a nap once. Got a lot accomplished - some holiday shopping done, a swing by the post office, the gym, an email audit, a few good episodes of House. But still physically drained.

My plan was to take half an Ambien at 10p and get back on some semblance of a schedule. Well, I started House while I was cleaning up the kitchen and got sucked in. Halfway through I figured I'd try a little alcohol to see if that helped me loosen up enough to sleep. If it's going to help, I can feel it course through my blood, draining the last 2 drops of energy I've been running on for hours. A great House episode, but the beer didn't do enough. So I decided to pop the top on the big bottle of raisin beer I've been saving. I've been curious, but hesitant to open it unless I'm committed to finishing it in 2 nights or have a friend to help me. I stood up to pop the cork and the Guinness hit me like a Mac truck. Alright! I'm going to make it tonight! I figured, eh, let's poor it anyway. What's a little extra alcohol going to do but make me fall over quicker?

So I poured 3/4 of a glass, grabbed my book (Ann Patchett's Run - the relationships are every bit as interesting and touching as in Belle Canto) and headed to bed. I washed up, hit the sack, and started reading while enjoying my beer. Hmm. First thought - this would be awesome with a red meat sandwich - salami and Italian olive salad or roast beef and Swiss. I kept drinking. Hmm. My stomach started to fill up with liquid. Admittedly, I didn't eat enough today. Mostly I was lazy. I had planned to go to the grocery story and get mac and cheese and a salad for dinner, but I just didn't feel like putting on my pants. So I pulled together some pancake batter, ate a little tuna and called it a night. I don't know if the lack of calories, the lack of sleep or some allergic reaction to the beer was at fault. But about halfway through I had to put the beer down and cradle my belly. I thought, I feel gross. I'll feel better if I puke.

I have thought this before - many times. Especially while living in 808 in college. And I have never mastered the art of sticking my finger down my throat. Gross! Even during Power Hours, the only thing that could make me puke and rally was watching another person puke. I could never manage the puking. It amazed me last fall when I got dehydrated and puked up an amazing sushi meal minutes after Jon got home from Iraq and he was able to stand in the bathroom and watch me and make sure I was OK. I'd be hanging over the balcony breathing into a bag if he had been the one with his head in the toilet.

So I decided to give it a go. Eh, the toilet got cleaned today - what do I have to lose? Only my favorite tee that I would insist on tossing directly in the wash. Amazingly I was able to use my stomach muscles and clear my belly of whatever was bothering me. I feel fabulous now! Except for my puffy eyes, which always follow puking because I automatically start crying. And the toothbrush I have to replace in the morning. And the toilet that has to be rescrubbed. And the comfort of a favorite tee.

Yup, not making this a habit. I would be a horrible bulimic. I would have to A) get all waterproof make-up, B) carry extra changes of clothes, and C) invest in a dental hygiene company. I already own 45% of Clorox's stock, so I'm good on that front. (My mom owns the rest.)

So, 2.5 hours later, I'm right back where I started. Wide awake and cold. I guess it's time to pop that half an Ambien . . .