  So I�m sitting in a bar, with a hideous bag in front of me. Phoebe, however, is content in her ugly ass carrier; she�s been mellow yellow since we got to the airport. The car ride was a different matter altogether; she tried to convince me to let her out of the bag many thousands of times. Now, she�s content to watch people, and let people pet her. (She�s drawing a significant amount of attention.
) The sleeping pills have been working really well; there�s no loss of control, or that smacked-upside-the-head-with-a-solid-plank feeling. However, I�ve been taking a full one the last few nights, and I�ve been one sleepy, sleepy individual. No coma, though. My mom let me know that she was unimpressed with my choice to court the world of sleep medication. There�s irony there, folks. Deep seated irony. 
