I have been known to do unusual things after taking Ambien. What is remarkable about these things is that I often have no recollection of them. Luckily I don’t eat, drive or call people. Shout out to my big sister! Put down the phone Trish!

Mostly, I just write. As it turns out, I did some of that last night. I vaguely remember penning notes to my two children and to my husband before I went to bed. I know they were love notes, left for them to read when they woke up. If you had asked me what those notes said this morning, however, I would have been clueless.

So sometimes there are brief remembrances about the previous evening, but not always. I logged on to Twitter today, and had absolutely no memory of leaving this update last night:

A hallucinating, crazy woman in the bed and a woman with legs made of turkey behind the door.

My husband is one lucky guy.

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I do not sleep. Chronic insomnia has plagued me since I was pregnant with my daughter some 11 years ago.

I have tried everything short of an acupuncturist and I even have one of those lined up. St. John’s Wort, Melatonin, anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds have been ingested, relaxation techniques have been used and I have one of the most comfortable beds and pillows I have ever rested upon.

For the most part my problem exists because I worry a lot. Sometimes it’s not even the worrying, but rather the constant chatter in my brain. Keeping my cell phone next to my bed helps a little because I can jot notes into it in the middle of the night (using paper and pencil was pretty tough in the dark), but even that doesn’t keep the stress of everyday life at bay.

This weekend, we took a trip to my in-laws’ house. They live in a small, southern Ohio town in a big, old house with gorgeous woodwork and a great front porch. One of those roomy porches, with a swing and everything. Sigh.

They live across the street from an enormous park where my husband and I walked the dogs and let the kids play until they were so filthy I barely recognized them. We drank some beer, ate homemade food, played cards with the kids and watched football.

At one point on Saturday, my body sunk into their comfortable couch and before I knew it, I woke myself up with my own snoring. Classy, right? Whatever. I don’t even care. My in-laws had 11 kids, so they’ve learned to tune things out. I allowed myself to doze off and on the entire afternoon.

That night, as I was checking e-mail, I fell asleep at the computer desk. I stayed that way, slumped over with my head on my arm, until my husband came to check on me for fear I had died. That’s how much I don’t sleep. My spouse saw me with my eyes closed and thought I had passed away.

And, yesterday after church I told everyone I was going to lie down. I climbed the steps and tucked myself into bed…and I went to sleep. I napped, people! That simply doesn’t happen.

At my in-laws’ there is no agenda, no laundry, no meetings and no work. My kids can play freely without me looking at my watch so we can hurry off to the next thing on our schedule.

I have always said I would dislike living outside the city, because I would be too bored. There just wouldn’t be enough to do.

Apparently I’ve been wrong all this time, because not having enough to do was exactly what I needed.

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I had my first migraine when I was eight years old. I remember being in the school nurse’s bathroom, alone, scared, vomiting up my cafeteria lunch with my head hurting so bad that I wanted to crack it open on the corner of the sink and let the pain spill all over the linoleum floor. Ah, good times, good times.

I have tried a lot of different medications in the last thirty years, but none of them really work. Five weeks ago, I decided to take things into my own hands and see if giving up sugar would help.

It’s not no-sugar, but it’s so-low-it-may-as-well-be-no-sugar. And, you know what? It did help. In a four week span, I had one headache. ONE. That’s unheard of.

But, in the past week (and I’m totally blaming this on my trip to Chicago) I have let myself enjoy bread, and wine…and chocolate again. Which is probably why I’m typing this at 5:00am and have been up all night with a headache.

Yep. It’s time for me to get back on the wagon.

At the very least, my teeth are very happy about this situation. The Honey Nut Cheerios, however, are ticked.

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I learned many things at the blogging conference I just attended in Chicago. There were a lot of sessions, and speakers, and sponsors…and parties.

The first thing I learned is that you can’t physically be in three different places at once, no matter how hard you try. The moment I arrived, I had a trio of gatherings to attend. I chose to go to a volunteer meeting where the coordinator told us not to show up at our 7:00am shift hungover. Which led me to raise my Corona in the air in agreement and exclaim, “Hear hear!”

I also found out that no matter how much you love your roommate, you may not like her as a bedmate. Unless, of course, you like waking up with another woman lying on half of your body with her face nuzzled in your neck. Did I mention the snoring?

I learned invaluable information, such as how to use your Blackberry to find a dive bar near the Sears Tower that serves $3.00 margaritas and cheese-stuffed pretzels. I found out that you can pay a bum to show you to the train station and that meeting your favorite bloggers is kind of like meeting your best friend and a celebrity all at the same time. That’s not my line, it’s his.

I was taught that free beer is awesome, sun-dried tomato and goat cheese canapé turns to paste in your mouth and that deep-fried macaroni and cheese may be the world’s most perfect food. Though you may want to have a defibrillator handy.

I found out that my favorite author is more than amazing in person and that she won’t sign her latest book when it’s a copy you checked-out from the library and carted to Chicago. What? I was totally going to pay the library to replace it. Don’t judge me, people.

If it wasn’t for the conference, I wouldn’t have been educated in how to drive a Tahoe (thanks for the loaner, Chevy), how to win an iPod Touch (thanks for the raffle, Hanes) and how to find hidden hotel suites giving out free clothes (thanks for the shirt and jeans, GAP).

And finally, I learned that it is great to see old friends and that you shouldn’t take Ambien before saying goodbye to your new friends, because when they are hugging and crying, you’ll be laughing and chasing unicorns.

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