Ha! Love Larson, and saw that cartoon a long time ago but had forgotten it. Thanks! 
That’s my favorite one! It’s funny because it’s true, too true.
I use Nuvigil to help keep awake and functioning during the working day. I’ve tried different doses over the years (think I started it in 2012 or thereabouts). At times I’ve used Provigil (Nuvigil is the “right-handed” isomer or whatever the term is - armodafinil versus modafinil).
Provigil doesn’t work quite as well, AND requires 2 doses a day - one first thing, then one early afternoon. One of the reasons it doesn’t work so well is that I usually forget the midday dose.
Well, Nuvugil (or its generic) is not in stock at Dropped’em, at any dose, and they have no clue when it’ll be available. They DO have Provigil (or a generic).
So now I have to wait for the sleep clinic to respond to my message, and send in a prescription for the less-effective drug, so I have SOMETHING available when we start the first of 3 long driving trips in a few weeks. I think I’ll hoard my remaining stash of the stuff that works.
On a humorous note: when I first started Nuvigil, they wanted me to monitor my BP to make sure it didn’t cause issues. All was fine… but then I caught bronchitis, and had to go on steroids (which are not friendly to blood pressure), so I stopped it briefly.
During that time, we visited the grandparents in Florida, where I got 8-9 hours of sleep every single night for a week.
On the drive back, I restarted the Nuvigil. And it TERRIFIED me. I mean, I felt good. Not GOOD. Not WHEEEE I’M FLYING. But… rested.
For the first time in nearly 20 years, I felt rested. This unfamiliar sensation freaked me out so badly that I kept asking my husband “I’m not driving erratically, am I? I’m not doing anything weird or dangerous, am I?”. Baffled, he assured me I was not doing anything frightening.
I drove for something like 9 hours without needing to swap out. We stopped for bathroom / fuel breaks, of course, but none of the “I’m tired, can you take a shift”.
Unfortunately, that day of alertness required payment - I slept nearly not at all that night. And I’ve never again had that wonderful “awake” feeling.
I used to hear a bird at 4.30! Why that exact time I wondered.
Not always at that exact time of course, but the “dawn chorus” is a well-known phenomenon of bird behaviour. They appear in anticipation of sunrise to be announcing their claim to their territory against other birds. I feel like shouting out the window, “I don’t want your fucking bird territory! Just shut the fuck up. And stop shitting on my car!”
My driveway is under an electrical wire. Sigh.
Ah, the cacophony of white-winged doves and chakalakas that awakened me every morning in Belize. You ain’t heard a morning chorus like that!
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken ears and shut the fuck up
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
Yes, English blackbirds warble all damn night long. Bastards.
One bird I do not miss.
It’s ten-till-four-a.m. here and the local “wanna get laid!” birdsong is about to start up. Along with the damn sun, shining like an asshole.
God bless earplugs and blackout curtains.
ETA I composed this at o-dark-thirty a while ago and apparently did not possess the necessary cognitive function to click “reply” at the time.
I genuinely did not know that, and I’ve heard that song a coupla-three times.
They must be the U.K. equivalent of TX mockingbirds. Now there’s a bird that does not know the meaning of “shut the fuck up.”
… but it might whistle it back at you.
I don’t think it’s mainly about “wanna get laid!”. I think it’s mainly about “stay away from my territory which is mine, and stay away from my woman!”.
Very human-like, either way. Just earlier in the morning, and outside everyone’s bedroom windows.
And then they shit on your car.
Weirdly, a huge crow swooped across and dive-bombed me 3 times this morning as I got into my car - enough to graze my hair. A couple of them had been squawking earlier, which usually means they’ve spotted an eagle or a cat nearby. I guess I fell into the same category.
After an experience like that you should settle down with a stiff drink and watch Alfred Hitchcock’s classic The Birds!
No, no, the sun shines OUT of my asshole!
It’s time for another round of Was Jack the Asshole? I mean, I know I was, but I believe it was warranted. To wit:
To get into my building I have a little key fob that I have to swipe that unlocks the front doors. The swipey pad is attached to the box where one calls people in the building to let them in – following me? There’s a key pad, and a little LCD screen and a swipey pad. Sane? Cool.
So, I’m coming back from a walk with Bob and when I’m walking up the stairs there’s a guy standing directly in front of the box calling someone in the building, just completely boxing it out - like, on purpose it seems.
I say, “Excuse me,” as I reach forward with my key fob. He mumbles something that I didn’t hear and didn’t move.
“Excuse me,” I say again a little louder.
“I’m making a call,” he spits at me.
I’m thinking, maybe he doesn’t realize I’m just about to let him in the friggin’ building, so I just reach around him to wave my key fob and he literally blocks me from doing it. He leans into my arm with his shoulder and says again, louder, “I’m making a call!”
So as he tries to face me, I just reach around his other side, wave my key and say, quite firmly, “I’m trying to open the goddamned door.”
At that point the door was open so I removed myself from the situation, but not before he decided to rant on: “How rude. There are other people in this world, you know. You have to wait your turn.”
I decided in a split second that there was no point in trying to explain to him how the key pad works and that I was probably doing him a favor, so I decided to retort with, “Fuck you,” and went about my business.
God, I love living in a city.
Side note, Bob never raised a hackle.
I would never let someone in the building without being damn sure they belong there, though. Crooked people pretend to be talking to someone on the box and then get let in by people who think they’re being helpful.
If you’re talking about me letting him in, well, touché, but, hey man, I live on the edge.
Donald “FELON” Trump. Wonder if he brought his toothbrush?
I did not know that either. Until they started whittering away. And then I had the damn song earwormed in my head for the remainder of the night.
Oh and GUILTY GUILTY GUILTY 
Sometimes Christmas comes even in the Pit.