So here I am, five thirty in the morning, awake voluntarily. This has never occurred in the history of my life, unless I stayed up this late.
I've had a pretty decent cold these past few days, and, as a result of the coaxing of the two females in my house, decided to take some NyQuil to get to sleep. It knocked me on my ass shortly after swallowing it at eleven last night, and six and a half hours later, here I am.
What the hell? Where is the rest of my coma? This stuff is supposed to make you sleep for the rest of the week, isn't it? I looked on the bottle to see just what I had consumed the night before, to find a strange mix of pseudophedrine and a shot of alchohol (listed as an inactive ingredient, no less). This stuff contradicts itself. Never again will I consume thee, NyQuil.