I had to take a lot of cold medicine to get through my first day back at work. I’m pretty sensitive to decongestants. Even though I’m not even on the hard stuff (pseudoephedrine), the phenylephrine gets to me after a while too.
It’s gotten my conscious mind talking more than usual, which I didn’t think was possible. Just talking and talking. Deeper, sometimes darker thoughts than I’m used to. It’s very annoying.
I finally realized I need a break… from my own brain. I wish I could take a vacation from myself.
But what would be going on in my brain if my voice wasn’t yammering at me? Just peace? I think I’ve achieved that once or twice.
Or maybe, when I go on vacation from myself, I go with the voice. I mean, my conscious brain is the real me, right? So maybe I, the voice, just need to get untrapped from this tiny head.
…When I got to this point in my story at dinner, my husband Tom suggested that might be my cue to write. He only looked slightly scared when he said it.
So there you have it. You can thank Tom (or Mucinex) for this.
Or maybe next time I have a cold, I’ll just take a week off from blogging and not subject you to my decongestant-acid-trips.