The Tao of Martha: My Year of LIVING; Or, Why I'm Never Getting All That Glitter Off of the Dog by Jen Lancaster

Author:Jen Lancaster
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Biography & Autobiography, Personal Memoirs, Retail, Nonfiction, Nook
ISBN: 9781101605950
Publisher: NAL
Published: 2013-06-04T04:00:00+00:00

Sometimes happiness is a warm puppy, sometimes it’s Fletch’s beard, and sometimes?

Sometimes happiness takes the form of a flatulent waiter.

P.S. I love my room makeover.

THE AMBIEN DIARIES

The top five best things that ever happened to me in my life list out something like this:

Meeting Fletch—Self-explanatory.

Adopting Maisy—Again, self-explanatory.

Deciding to Pursue a Writing Career in Lieu of Being a Corporate Drone—Which pretty much changed everything. (Please refer to Bitter Is the New Black with any specific questions about the process.)

Moving to the Suburbs—Peace! Quiet! Privacy! Free parking! One hundred percent fewer crack-induced knife fights in my driveway!

Discovering Ambien—This may require more explanation.

By the way, my top ten includes the Nespresso coffeemaker, no-chip manicures, Spanx, in-dash GPS, and the end of the Cold War, even though I’m bummed that no one pens song lyrics about nuclear winter anymore.

But back to the Ambien—I can’t fall asleep. Ever. I can stay asleep with no problem, but getting there unmedicated? Nope. All of my little neuroses come out to play the second I slip into my jammy pants. Despite how busy I’ve been during the day, no matter how much physical labor I may have exerted, or how much mental energy I’ve had to expend, the minute I hit the sheets, my brain switches into hyperdrive and I’m suddenly overwhelmed by racing thoughts.

I’m not necessarily even contemplating the world’s problems (or my own); it’s more like every idea, notion, or question I’ve ever had pushes all Japanese commuter–style into the Tokyo Metro that is my brain. The floodgates open and suddenly I’m staring at the ceiling, wondering what ever happened to that kid named George in the fourth grade who used to wear all those silk shirts. How come the hair grows on my legs every time I sneeze? How many people touch the handrail on the revolving door into the Sears Tower every day? Do workers in that building have a higher instance of cold and flu than in smaller buildings? And will any true Chicagoan ever call that place the Willis Tower? (FYI? No.)

Complicating matters is that now the Internet exists and I can actually find out the answers to my burning oh so stupid questions, and then that leads me down the rabbit hole that is Google, because George is alive, well, and living in Ridgefield, New Jersey, with his wife and teenage children, one of whom loses her shit over One Direction, which is a band that got their start on Simon Cowell’s X Factor in Great Britain. What’s interesting is that 1D didn’t even win the competition; nor did they start off together as a group. Niall, Zayn, Louis, Liam, and my favorite, Harry, originally auditioned as solo acts, but after they didn’t make it, they…

Do you see what I mean? The thoughts are relentless.

To sleep, I require an off switch, and that’s how Ambien works eighty-five percent of the time. I take my pill, read a bit, and then, like magic, I’m lulled into slumber by the absolute solitude inside my head.

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