temazepam induced memories

Trying to remember a time when I wasn't dizzy has become my favorite hobby. It's probably not healthy, but it's what I do. I came up with these two precious childhood moments last night.

When I was about 7 years old, my dad came in from work with a new phone for the apartment. I always thought this phone came from his place of employment, but chances are it was someone's old phone, someone who realized the joy of touch tone phoning 10 years before my parents. It was a kick-ass black rotary phone with a clear plastic dial. This was a big improvement over the other black rotary phone we had, because the dial on that one was metal, and when I would play with the phone (or on the 4 occasions I actually had to dial a number) I remember the weight and sharpness of it digging into my frail fingers, any number with a 9 or a 0 was out of the question. Before my dad set up the new phone in the hallway, my sister and I had a swell time using it like a toy; living the exciting life of a secretary, the hectic day of an operator, and ultimate dream ... taking personal calls. At one point I decided I would do an impression and picked up the phone pretending to be my dad. I think my dad worked for the government at the time, and when he answered the phone there he would say his name, followed by the name of the department he worked for. I recall him saying "interstate". Now that I think of it, he most likely did not work in the middle of a giant highway, but it sounded like interstate to me. With both my parents proudly watching, I picked up the receiver with great enthusiasm and in my best man voice I said my dad's name followed by the word "intercourse." Awkward silence was followed by my mom asking "You do know what intercourse is, right?" And even though I wasn't completely sure, I was positive it was not a phone appropriate word. I looked my mom square in the eyes and blurted out "YES!" I then swiftly escaped to my bedroom, opened a Richard Scary book to the middle as if I had been reading it for hours, and tried pretend the whole thing never happened.


One weekday afternoon (after we had the new phone) my sister and I were doing homework, or rather, my sister was doing homework, and I was taunting her. Although there would be the occasional brawl following the taunting, afternoons like this were usually very quiet, because my mother worked from 11 p.m. - 7 a.m. and slept in the afternoon. On this particular afternoon there was a knock on the door. This was odd for a few reasons, the main reason was that we lived in a three story apartment building and you couldn't get to our apartment on the second floor without having been let in through the main door on the first floor. The other reason was that we had no guests in the afternoon, or any other time. This knock perplexed and intrigued me, so I stopped my taunting and went to the door. Although I had been told to never open the door for a stranger I deduced that no stranger could get to the second floor, clearly this had to be a neighbor, and neighbors aren't strangers! Through the glass and lacy curtain I saw a silhouette which looked very harmless, so I unlocked the deadbolt and turned the knob. An old man towered over me, I noticed that his coat was dirty and his hat was plaid. "I'm your grandfather!" he slurred as he stumbled over the threshold. This man was not my grandfather, or a neighbor. At this point my sister was at the door with me and we looked at each other with fear and sadness. What had I done? There we were, two small girls in awe of a tall, drunk imposter. My sister tried with all her might to push the man back out into the hallway as he continued to assure her that he was our grandfather, she was actually just holding him up. I, on the other hand, walked into my parent's room where I calmly sat beside my mother, shook her awake and let her know a guest had arrived for her. Then I went into my room, opened an Encylopedia Brown book to the middle as if I had been reading it for hours and tried to pretend the whole thing never happened. It turned out the old man was the grandfather of the people upstairs, I was in a lot of trouble and I still can't believe I deserted my sister.