Ambien: A Play in Two Scenes

Scene 1. A suburban home. Evening.

ME: I just took Ambien. Don't trust anything I say or do after this.
ROB: Okay.
MY BRAIN: Status good. All systems norm - OHHHH THE COLORRRRRS.
ROB: Huh?
MY BODY: Bathroom NOW. *stumble stumble*
MY BRAIN: Vision off line. Systems shutting down. Tactile reliability 50% and falling.
MY BODY: *efficiently rejects most recent input*
ROB: Uh oh.
LAST VESTIGE OF BRAIN: The flush handle is probably cold and hard. Find that.
BRAIN: *gone*
MY BODY: *collapse*

...

ME: Why am I lying on the bathroom floor in a cheery beam of sunshine?
MY WATCH: La-laaaa! Good morning! It's 8AM! La-la!
MY LIMBS: *twitch* *flail* About TIME! *convulse* Could we have some CIRCULATION here?


( Scene 2. The same suburban home, the same night, from Rob's point of view. )

I have found a drug that takes insomnia away from one spouse and gives it to the other.