It’s simply dreadful outside. Honest to goodness, I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself if things keep up this way. A person can only take so much you know. How many days has it been now? Eight? Ten? Downright depressing is what it is. I’ve made an appointment with Dr. Stevens in the morning to see if he can’t prescribe something new, at least until this weather changes. The other prescription obviously isn’t working. What dear? No, I changed it to tomorrow. I’ve decided I can’t wait that long. I telephoned and Suzan, you remember, his receptionist? She told me he has an opening in the morning. I told her I simply cannot take much more of this, you know. Yes, she’s very sweet. She’s a dear. Pardon? Last year? Oh, well you know that was different. That was completely different. It was so hot! And it was dry! I just couldn’t stand it any longer. I couldn’t sleep. I tried opening the windows. I tried wet towels and ice. I even had Sharon place a water bottle on the bedside table so I could spritz the air. You remember. Nothing seemed to work. It really was a last resort. I honestly couldn’t breathe as I recall. No, no. Like I said, a different situation altogether, and it did work that time. I was certainly able to sleep better afterwards. What, dear? Currently? No, it's four. Twice a day.
Have I told you about these headaches I’ve been having lately? Yes, and I can’t remember exactly when they started, but they’re truly unpleasant. You know, I read in the Times the other day a story about a woman who gets horrible headaches. She’s the subject of some study or something. These famous doctors are hooking her up to all sorts of equipment to monitor her brain while she sleeps. I know! They can actually see these things now. Apparently she has a history. She wakes in the middle of the night screaming in pain. Yes, migraines. Can you imagine? She said the headaches have gotten so bad she wants to kill herself most of the time. The poor woman is terrified of falling asleep. I mean, can you imagine? She said the headaches have gotten so bad she wants to kill herself most of the time. The poor woman is terrified of falling asleep. I mean, can you imagine? No, mine are nothing like that. They’re more of an inconvenience than anything, but better to stop them before they get worse. The next thing you know, it’ll be my name in the Times. Honestly.
