Omg this is the best way to go to sleep.. I love my Wickles!
Sometimes you just need a Pickle

So, I have terrible insomnia. I wake up sometimes at 2, 3, or 4 am and never go back to sleep.

Its frustrating, aggravating, and downright exhaustive.
It’s been worse since I returned home from Spain and became a re-pat.
So, it was 3am the other night, and bang my eyes opened and I was staring at the ceiling fan over my head. Here we go again….. my mind began to wander and worry about anything, and everything as usual.
Then it dawned on me….
Get something big, salty, and juicy…
Was I hungry? No, was I anxious? No, but something said… go get it, you know you want it..
Now before you think dirty thoughts, don’t…..
What I wanted was just in the next room….
So, I hopped up and in my socks, slid across the plank floor into my kitchen.
I slowly opened the fridge, my eyes surveying each shelf…
There it was….
I big jar of juicy green deliciousness. I popped it open and pulled out a big fat juicy pickle.
The juice was dripping off it, the skin was light green and the smell of dill emanated from it.
That was it.
“Give it to me,” Self said.

I wrapped one end in a paper towel to catch the juices, and happily slid back to my bedroom and climbed back in bed..
I lay back against the headboard, gripped the green monster, and took a big bite.
It was just like it looked; juicy with a nice crisp, just the right amount of saltiness, and the perfect size…
I took another bite and the juices ran down its side into the paper towel diaper I wrapped around the bottom.
I closed my eyes and tasted it fully, something I seldom ever do with anything. It was scrumptious and brought back memories as a child eating huge pickles, sucking the juices out of the center, then running around the yard chomping away….

Suddenly I felt relaxed, happy, and chilled out. My mind calm, not a worry in the world.
I took another bite, then another.
Spain never had pickles like this.
I felt myself get sleepy.
Where was this pickle all those nights we couldn’t sleep? self-whispered in my head.
Where oh where have you been all those nights as I lay for hours without sleep pickle? I wondered in my deepening pickle-fueled trance.
“Oh, but I’ve been waiting for you,” Pickle said, for weeks I’ve waited in that cold icebox for you to take me out and wrap me in a towel… “eat me and you will always rest my dear… “
OK, you’re right pickle, you’re absolutely right, I won’t forget you next time…my thoughts mumbled as I fell into a deep sleep…
Sometimes the simplest things can change something. Unexpected things, tiny things, big juicy green things…
Who knew after weeks of insomnia, a single lone pickle could put me to sleep instead of those damn sleeping pills…
Now if a pickle can cure insomnia, what else can it do?
Well, that depends on…self said…
Now you can think whatever you want – just kidding.
What’s your favorite pickle?

“A Wickle, a pepper-infused one for me,” my sister says…. ok some like it hot…
“A baby Gherkin,” another says, “ I like to pop the whole thing at once in my mouth.
Yeah, but those are too tiny for a towel diaper. I said…
“A sweet one” another friend mentioned .. “I like mine to taste like candy”…
“To each his own…
Wait till I tell my doctor…
He won’t believe me.
Get a pickle, see if it cures what ails you…
Somewhere in the US as a re-pat shopping for pickles…
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Published by Chif
I am a nurse, divorced, and love travel. I climb stairs with a bunch of friends and I’m the Captain of a stair team called Tower of Power. I’m also a cancer survivor. I had anal cancer and before you think something rude… I was married 21 years to an asshole. That’s why I got ass cancer. that the story and I’m sticking to it. Ive been to 80 countries and plan on another 50, God willing….
About Me

This blog is about how I changed my life. I moved to Spain at 58 for 2 years to teach kids English. After divorce and cancer it was time to do something different and I did. I left a good job and health insurance and no, I didn’t know any Spanish either. But I did it and learned how to move to another country and deal with ex-pat adaption hell, but then due to “aging out at age 60” I had to go… go figure! So I had to move back to the US to go through a different kind of re-pat, re-integration hell.
So I sit here wondering: Whose f***ing idea was this anyway? Mine, all mine. So here is my story, one painful step at a time, then and now. Just so you know I’ve been to 80 countries over the years as I have no kids and no man to get in my way. So enjoy my travel stories as I continue to come up with crazy F***ing ideas.
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Published by Chif
I am a nurse, divorced, and love travel. I climb stairs with a bunch of friends and I’m the Captain of a stair team called Tower of Power. I’m also a cancer survivor. I had anal cancer and before you think something rude… I was married 21 years to an asshole. That’s why I got ass cancer. that the story and I’m sticking to it. Ive been to 80 countries and plan on another 50, God willing….
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Omg this is the best way to go to sleep.. I love my Wickles!