In just over two and a half days, I'm not sure my pleasant attitude is changing, but I'm seeing bits and pieces of the side effects. The drowsiness is a myth. Last night I don't even remember yawning and when I got in bed at 12:30, I was pretty much wide awake. Fortunately, I turned the TV to a cycling event and was asleep in no time.
I'm still dragging ass in the mornings. Once I wake up, it's really hard to fall back asleep so I just toss and turn and think of all the shit I need to do. I'm pretty sure the happy pills are supposed to combat that, but right now, the anxiety is winning the battle. Sometimes I do fall back asleep, but them I'm just wasted when I get up.
My temperament I think is improving. Last night I should have killed Hayden a couple times, but I kept my hands to myself, and don't even recall yelling. I might have raised my voice, but no yelling and no beating. Baby steps.
Later in the evening, there was another f-bomb or two that flew out of my mouth, but again, not from anger. I was more scared than anything. I'm not sure what I was doing, but in the master bathroom area, I heard this sound, it can only be described as some guy motor-boating his large chested lady friend. I looked around and my wife was across the room and fully clothed, so that wasn't it. I searched for the sound and saw this wasp that was the size of a large bird and had markings like freaking Darth Maul from the Star Wars movie.
When he flapped his wings, the house shook. He was up by a light bulb and I really thought he was going to break it with those large wings of his. I took a towel and tried to beat his ass with it, but the towel just bounced off. One time I caught him off guard and took his big ass down to the ground. At this point, Porter the cat came in to help. I tried to get her out of the way because I was afraid this waspadactyl would carry her off for a late meal. Jennifer kept yelling at me to just grab it, but it was bigger than I was so I just ran around the room trying to protect myself.
Eventually I landed a few more blows with the towel and stunned him. I grabbed a Kleenex and went in for the kill. I had him but he came out of his funk and tried to fly away. My whole hand shook as he broke free. Again, I ran around the room screaming like a little girl trying to save myself, leaving the cat and my wife to fend for themselves. Apparently, another side effect of the happy pills is self-preservation.
Finally I grew tired of Jennifer (hiding under the covers) yelling at me to grow a pair and kill the thing. I went at the thing one more time, beating anything that moved with the towel. Finally I subdued this waspadactyl beast and sent him to a watery grave in the toilet. The waspadactyl had the last laugh, however, as after flushing, the can was partially stopped up.
It should be noted that despite my happy pills, I was dropping f-bombs during this intense battle for life. I'm not proud of it, but I had to defend my man-card in front of my wife and cat.
I'm at work now and despite passing new road construction on North Green River Road (isn't this basically a new road that took 4 years to finish), I don't recall any road rage...even when I passed the dead guy driving the truck with the handicapable license plate.
One other side effect that wasn't entertaining was discovered at 4:49 this morning when the birds woke me up. I sort of had to tinkle (as least it felt like that), so I got up to use the now unstopped toilet. I stood in front of the can. And I stood...and I stood...and I stood. I started thinking about how I'm going to be a stallion with these new drugs. Apparently taking a whiz is going to be an ordeal as well.
Oh well. The things I do so I can be nice to others.
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