Apparently, the combination of vodka, allergy medication, and very low blood pressure isn’t a terribly good one, as I passed out this morning on my way to the bathroom. After which, I proceeded to get up, walk back to my bedroom and pass out a second time there.

Though I’m nursing a number of odd bruises from the two less than graceful crumplings, there was something oddly pleasant about the suddenly cool, clammy and clear feeling that comes with post-feinting fluttering open of eyelids. Something akin to, though certainly milder than, the feelings Dostoevsky described as preceding his epileptic fits:

“For several instants I experience a happiness that is impossible in an ordinary state, and of which other people have no conception. I feel full harmony in myself and in the whole world, and the feeling is so strong and sweet that for a few seconds of such bliss one could give up ten years of life, perhaps all of life. All of you healthy people don’t even suspect what happiness is, that happiness that we epileptics experience for a second before an attack.”