One of my favorite Demetri Martin jokes is as follows:

“I think the worst time to have a heart attack would be during a game of charades. An even worse time would be during a game of ‘Fake Heart Attack’, followed by ‘Naps’.”

Saturday, I decided to be ambitious. I was going to finally build the front step I had planned nearly 2 years ago. I was going to trim bushes, mow the lawn, and make time to hang out with Kathryn. It was going to be a wildly successful day.

After a morning of hangups and false-starts, I was ready to refuel with lunch and a couple ibuprofen and hit the afternoon hard. About a half hour after eating I began to feel light headed and quite drowsy. I didn’t work that hard in the morning. Could the massive italian sandwich from Jimmy John’s be the culprit? I passed out on the couch for twenty minutes, awoke groggier than before, and was convinced to move to the bed for a slight nap.

45 minutes later, still groggy.

Another hour later, still groggy.

For the life of me I couldn’t figure out what was going on. I am never this tired in the middle of the day, and I wasn’t feeling sick. I mean, I did some light work, took 3 ibuprofen, ate lunch . . . wait. I remembered the ibuprofen I grabbed were colored blue. They’re not usually blue, they’re usually white or brown. Blue means . . . sleep aid. Turns out I downed 3 ibuprofen pm. And you know what, they really work. Within a half hour I would’ve passed out standing up.

Seriously, do not operate heavy machinery and be sure to devote enough time for a full night’s sleep. That junk messes you up.