Up On The Roof

These are 3 of the principals in this little story: from L to R, the Husband, the "daughter", & your host.This was taken last week at the Open the DOOR to Sustainability event that the Husband & Syslee had door-to-art pieces in the show & auction. Syslee is our "adopted" daughter: beautiful & talented & loved.

I was more than just a little thrilled when I discovered the magic that was Xanax. In the late 1990s, I had a series of surgeries for TMJ, & although I would be heavily doped up, I had to be awake for the procedure. Knowing my profound phobias & because the procedure was a bit gruesome (basically breaking my jaw & re-setting it), the surgeon suggested a Xanax the day before & one 3 hours before the event. This drug was remarkable; not only did I not care that I was about to have surgery, when the assistants went to prop my mouth open, I was told that I was making dirty comments about my oral skills.

I horded a few of these magic pills, rationalizing that I might need them to get through another harrowing situation in the future.


The Husband ended up taking one during a moment of intense distress, & he felt bad that he had raided my stash, even though I had shrugged it off. The Husband mentioned this to a co-worker, & she cheerfully gave him a handful of her Xanax to replace my own. They were presented to me by the Husband & I reiterated that it was no big deal. I popped them into an empty pill bottle & tossed them in the junky miscellaneous drawer in the bathroom, & forgot the matter.


The next spring, the Husband was suffering from seasonal allergies & was feeling worse then ever. He was surprised & delighted to find a small bottle of industrial strength allergy medicine from the previous year. He took the 1st one at work & didn’t find relief for his sneezing & red itchy eyes… but he didn’t really care either. Work was not even bothering him, he claimed that he was dealing with the pressures of his job with little effort that week.


For 4 days he sought allergy relief, thinking that the medicine needed time built up in his system. By his weekend, nothing was really bothering him & in fact he was feeling rather nifty. He did more chores around the house than usual, including the unusual move of standing on our rooftop & power washing the gutters. Alone. While I was at work.




Searching for something, I opened the junk drawer & found that my Xanax stash had been raided once again. After some flying accusations, it was discovered that the Husband had been unwittingly popping a Xanax a day for the better part of the week, including the few extra that landed him on our roof with the hose. It was only then that we realized why he got totally shit-faced, falling down drunk on 1 stiff cocktail at our friend Syslee’s party. I was so flummoxed by his behavior that evening, it so unlike him to not be in control. He is such a light drinker & it was shocking to see him falling down stairs, slurring his sentences & licking strangers. The moral from this sordid little fable? A Xanax a day makes the Husband fearless & gay.