She proceeded with her narrative, carefully recording each word as she spoke. When done, she rolled over and fell asleep. As time passed, my wife used the notebook to jot down ideas, ripping out pages for shopping lists, etc. While the notebook remained in the bedroom, over time, it thinned out and got used up. Sadly, the Ambien rambling eventually got separated from the notebook and was lost.
For years, I searched for it.
This past week, we visited out family in Philadelphia, and once again we used Ambien to fight the jet lag. Our last night in Philadelphia, we took an Ambien at 9:15 pm so that we could get some sleep before getting up at 4:00 am for the early flight. When we woke up to our phone alarm, Pat was horrified to find that she had sent a text message to our friend,
"Change dinner time on Monday to 7 pm please."
She had no memory of sending the text, but was understandably embarrassed. She quickly sent an apologetic text message explaining the circumstances.
This incident once again reminded me of the poetic rambling from years past. Just this morning, my wife was reorganizing a dresser. As she removed a drawer stuffed with clothing, a piece of paper floated to the floor. It was the infamous Ambien rambling. It is reproduced verbatim below. Even under the influence of Ambien, my wife's penmanship is perfect.
"Your face contains an impressive geography of regions. The central nasal range dominates the visual landscape.
"As you speak, the little creatures in your eyes listen and they respond by speaking back. It’s surprising, but they’ve been exposed to the whole vocabulary, just as you.