Shortly after midnight last night/this morning, my mom walked into my room and the following conversation (or something very closely resembling it) took place.
Me: *Coughing my lungs out*
Mom: Are you still awake?
Me: Yes, that medicine...it doesn't work.
Mom: I came to get a pill for your dad since you took the whole bottle up with you.
Me: That medicine doesn't work, it's not making me sleep. I want to take more but I can't remember if I took a second one already or not...
Mom: You don't remember?
Mom: Well go ahead and take another one anyway.
Me: Okay. *Takes pill*
Mom starts to leave.
Me: I just keep tossing and turning.
Mom: Are you having crazy dreams again?
Me: Yeah, it's like every time I close my eyes there's...it's like, my bed...and then the sheets...and you have to pay to make a room...it's a blank room, and you have to pay money to...put stuff in it...
Mom: *Nodding as if she totally understands me* Why don't you just try to think of something else?
Me: I can't! The room! Every time I close my eyes it's the room...and the game show...and we have to build...something...and my bed...and...
Mom: Just close your eyes and think of a story or something.
Me: (Defeated) Okay.
The medicine may not have put me to sleep -- or cured my allergies/cold (whatever this is) -- but it sure made me lose my ability to form a complete thought.
And 14 hours later? I still feel completely out of it. And I don't even have medicine that will effectively put me to sleep.
Life is hard.