Adding Insult to Injury

Remember when I took the Ambien and I woke up in lingerie and couldn't remember even putting it on, much less a reason as to why??

No?? Then read the next post to get up to speed.

Well, I was hoping that my Ambien-induced antics would be confined to the safety of my humble abode. Well, as my dad used to say, "You can wish in one hand, and piss in the other and see which one fills up the quickest."

Turns out, my behavior extended beyond the split-level. I was talking with New Guy, and after hearing about my lingerie episode, mused that "your message last night now makes sense."

I apparently texted him and asked him something along the lines of "What do men wear to feel sexy when they are alone?"

What. The. Hell?!?!

I don't remember sending this message, but I am appalled. Mortified. Embarrassed beyond the definitions of that very word.

I'm calling the office Monday and getting a prescription for something else. Apparently, there are worse things than insomnia. Like making an ass of yourself to the guy whom you have hopes to date, but the relationship is still in that delicate stage where the smallest of things can be the deal breaker.

He claims it's hilarious. I think he's going to get an unlisted phone number come Monday.