My friends. Long have I stayed away from pain medication beyond the Advil Dome because I thought I would like it too much and quickly become a pillhead. Same reason I’ve stayed away from a lot of drugs (though watching other people use is also enormous motivation to skip it). As a woman, I face a lot of pain-based situations, most notably my menstrual cycle. I get the full drama: gut-wrenching pain, vomiting, sweating, passing out immobilized. I’m not trying to brag. So after having a few trips to the emergency room with torrid pain-induced vomiting I decided I would go ahead and fill one of the oxycodone prescriptions they gave me. Otherwise I always threw them out. Turns out that little pill actually takes care of my pain. I get in a nap and I’m good as groggy new, like a dishcloth you left on the floor to catch a persistent drip from the fridge.

I always suspected I was a pillhead who never got the chance to bloom and grow. It turns out I was wrong. Wandering around my house last night, forgetting what I was doing every time I entered a new room, astral projecting every time I started a conversation with my housemate, drifting in and out of a nap every five minutes: none of these are exalted states for me. I didn’t enjoy it. While I almost continuously crave a break from my brain, it turns out I would rather read, swim, write, watch a movie, go for a walk or karaoke to induce a non-harried state. Is this the blog post of a square? Yes. After saying all this, I must add that I do like being a spacy moron for a little while. I’m just saying I don’t want to be this way every day of my life. I don’t want the eyes that look like they’re sitting in rain puddles, I don’t want to stir my martini with a black beauty.

I just want to hold your hand.