I picked up some Unisom Sleep Melts at Target yesterday. The insomnia that began sometime in January has continued, unabated, through this late date in July, and I’m done spending my nights staring listlessly at the tiles in our hung ceiling.
Under the “buy more, save more” spell that Target tends to work on my soul, I was sucked in by the pleasant-looking packaging and the promise that I would “melt into sleep”. The lady on the cover looked happy enough, all snuggled up in 400-count sheets, dreaming the night away. “I could be that lady”, I thought, mindlessly thumbing through vitamin supplements and overpriced nail polish. “Maybe I should buy some new bedding, since I’m here.”
$87.00 in arguably useless purchases later, I hopped back in my car and drove to work, with a pit stop in a nameless Waltham parking lot to wait out a sudden monsoon.
After unpacking from the day, playing some rock band, cooking dinner, and watching Desperate Housewives, I popped open two of the Sleep Melts and stared at them for awhile, not really sure what to do. Was I supposed to chew them? Just let them dissolve? The directions were unclear on this point, but, taking a tip from the name, I allowed them to “melt” as it were, on my tongue.
Holy. fucking. christ. on a stick.
Until now, the worst thing I’ve ever swallowed (aside, maybe, from a single vodka-and-apple-juice cocktail) (it was a dark time in my life, shut up) was a Zicam chewable, a substance that morphed from Starburst Strawberry to Acid Reflux in about 5.6 seconds. The Unisom Sleep Melts, though, are a far more insidious brand of AWFUL. They taste like a cross between a Pepto Bismol Smartie and Eucalyptus-tinged Necco Wafer, with about the same chalky consistency. And since, I guess, you’re supposed to let them “melt” their noxious filth all over your tongue before you swallow, there’s NO WAY to get the taste out of your mouth.
It was nasty.
And, for the record, they did NOT make me sleep. So they are both disgusting and useless. Free Advice: don’t buy them.
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