12 March 2010 Boots: The Midnight Pharmacy

With much chagrin I discovered that the “shower cream” I bought at the pound shop on Wednesday was not, in fact, cream to rub on one’s body after a shower, but shower wash, as in soap. Yeah, I probably should have figured that one out in the store, but my excuse is Jet Lag and I’m sticking to it for as long as someone keeps pressing my “on” switch at midnight and my “off” switch when the alarm goes off at 7AM.

I hate jet lag. In Pattern Recognition, William Gibson calls it “soul delay”: whereas bodies can be propelled across vast distance and time, the soul can’t manage to keep up with the flight. It trails along, taking its own ancient path to come back to the body, which in its absence runs amok: too tired, too jazzed, too bright, too dark, too hot, too cold. Too much.

Too dry. When my soul is late I get dry skin.

So off we went to Boots–“The Midnight Pharmacy”–although as far as I can tell, it’s not open at midnight and never has been. At least that was the case in December 2008 when I went there at 8PM to get a prescription filled. Nope. Not open. Closed. Dark as midnight.

When my soul is late, I have bizarre thoughts.

Well, maybe they mean they’re open when it’s midnight in Hong Kong, or San Francisco. Maybe Boots is on soul time. Maybe Boots has the spirit of a midnight pharmacy but they just can’t manage it with bodies. Maybe they just want you to know there’s a place called The Midnight Pharmacy when your empty body can’t sleep at midnight and your skin is itchy.

In all likelihood, though, it’s like the shower cream and I’m missing something. Something that will make sense when my soul clears customs and immigration.

I hope it arrives tonight, maybe with a souvenir from the Canary Islands or wherever it must have stopped over. I’ve left the light on, and I’ve moisturized.

With any luck I’ll be asleep at midnight!