Tylenol PM, NoDoz combination

Among the porn-site offers and spam e-mail that I receive on a regular basis via my UNO e-mail account, I've received a few e-mails asking me why I don't write about my sexuality anymore. Now that I think about it, I really haven't chronicled my lifestyle for a good two months now. With that said, I suppose today is as good as any day to restart the conversation. Join me now and let's get back in the "How Typical" mindset. Gay, gay, gay, gay, gay. OK, I think I'm there.I've actually enjoyed breaking away from the "typical" homosexual dialogue. I mean how typical is it for a gay guy to rant and rave about his sexuality? I've already touched on all the hot topics. Gay rights, adoption, the military and even entered the hostile waters and talked about being a gay Christian (which according to some of you, yet unknown to me, is not possible).

I'm more than just a gay guy, and I don't want to be known as "that gay guy." So to avoid taking on that title, I'm currently checking out the blonde female sitting at the computer adjacent to me.

Now that I have totally wandered away from the subject at hand, a funny, and not gay, thing happened to me at work the other day.

I spend my whole shift at work surrounded by lovely, sweet ladies: I work in a group home with developmentally disabled individuals. I spend my days smiling, laughing and often breaking up fights involving fists and shoes. Don't get me wrong; I absolutely love my job.

However, like many of my fellow UNO students, my job often leaves me drained. Last weekend was one such example of this drainage.

I work what people in the "business" call an extended weekend shift. The shift boils down to a 68-hour straight weekend. I work Friday from 3 p.m. until Monday at 9 a.m. Yes. I am, in fact, crazy.



Last Saturday at around 6 p.m., the ladies I was supporting asked to go roller-skating at the local Skate Land (correction: apparently it is now Skate Daze). I was down for some skating action. After dealing with a few difficult situations that morning involving McDonald's and the throwing of food, I knew I needed an extra kick to get me through the rest of the night. I found that kick in a two capsule pack of NoDoz, purchased at the local gas station. An hour later I had my "blades" on and was doing laps around the rink.

After our outing at Skate Daze, we went back to the house to prepare ourselves for bed. It was about 10 p.m. The ladies decided to call it a night, but I stayed up for a bit watching my television program of choice, "The L Word." Yes, the "L" stands for lesbian: Hot lesbians.

After a few episodes watching the ladies discuss things lesbians usually discuss, I decided that it was time to call it a night. I gently laid my head on the bed and tried to get some rest. Two hours later, I was still lying there, with a lack of closed eyes. Apparently the NoDoz didn't have enough time to wear off. I quickly got up, searched through my duffle bag and found something I was hoping would help me catch some shut-eye: Tylenol PM. I pulled out the bottle and swallowed one Tylenol PM. About 30 minutes later I felt it start to kick in. I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes.

Now I really don't know how to explain the feeling this single Tylenol PM gave me, all I can say is that the NoDoz was still kicking. It was as if there was a battle going on inside my body. One part asleep, one part awake. I'm not sure who won, but no sleep was had.

I would feel myself falling asleep, but would then open my eyes and find myself ready to participate in a relay race.

I was a mess.

I finally fell asleep at about 6 a.m and was awakened at 7 a.m. by one of the ladies asking me to make pancakes. I didn't get any sleep, but I did get pancakes. How typical is that?

So, as usual, I hope my story inspired thought and change in your life. With that said, don't mix NoDoz and Tylenol PM unless you are planning on eating pancakes in the morning.