Of late night kitchen-raiding...

You know what I mean when I say Lunesta-binging? People that are prescribed Lunesta to help with their insomnia, then wake up in the middle of the night (although unbeknownst to them, because they aren't truly conscious) and plow through their fridges like Tasmanian devils?

I had an episode like that last night, except without the Lunesta-effect. I had total knowledge of my binge the entire time.

I woke up to Kensington jumping around on the bed. She either wanted to play or had to pee. I banked on the latter (however, the former is not so far-fetched; she's an asshole at 3 am sometimes), and shuffled out of bed with pup in tow to dump her outside.

While waiting for her do her business, I realized my throat hurt. I cleared it, thinking it was something scratchy or phlegm-y and sleep-induced. A quick cough should resolve it.

No such luck. It had the feel of a sick sore throat, of a week-long cold sore throat. Of a keep-you-up, hurts to swallow always-and-forever sore throat.

I hate sore throats.

Still waiting for Kensington, the Incessantly Slow Pee Pup, I turned to my pantry for comfort. I wanted something to soothe my throat, and for whatever reason... Peanut butter sounded like the perfect remedy.

What in the sleep-walking hell was I thinking?

Peanut butter is neither soothing for a sore throat, nor is it the perfect light 3 am snack. But there I stood, at my kitchen window with a spoon and a tub of Skippy.

When Kensington (I blame her for all of this) finally decided to wrap up her moonlight romp, I was feeling heavy and my throat was still sore.

...And I woke up the next morning sicker than a dog. My dog, your dog, everyone's dog. Just sick.

Thus, my new scientific theory: peanut butter does not stave off the common cold.

But it is really hard to resist that face.

Ta.
savvy