Category: Provigil

You know the feeling: the alarm screams at 6 a.m., your head is still on the pillow, and tomorrow’s deadline is already breathing down your neck. I’ve been there–last winter I had to finish a 200-page audit before the holidays. Coffee turned my stomach into a rock concert, energy drinks left me twitchy, and a […]

I still remember the first time I paid $9 for a single 200 mg tablet at a U.S. chain pharmacy. The receipt felt like a parking ticket. Two weeks later a friend who ships heart-rate monitors to Delhi told me he’d seen identical blister packs in a Karol Bagh drugstore for roughly the cost of […]

Last Tuesday at 2:17 a.m. my roommate found me on the kitchen floor, laptop glowing like a UFO, three empty coffee mugs rolling around me like loose marbles. Project due in six hours, brain humming like a fridge with a loose wire. That was the night I typed “buy provigil online reddit” into an incognito […]

Last Tuesday at 2:17 a.m., my courier app pinged: “Package outside–needs signature.” I padded downstairs in mismatched socks and signed for a plain yellow mailer that felt light as popcorn. Inside were ten blister strips stamped Modalert-200. No pharmacist, no waiting room, just a PayPal receipt for 62 bucks. Three hours later I was editing […]

I was halfway through a 14-hour drive from Tucson to Denver when the pill splitter in my glove box rattled open. One half-tab of modafinil–what most people call Provigil–had kept me alert since Flagstaff, but now I was down to the last dusty crumb. The truck-stop Wi-Fi was patchy, yet the search bar on my […]

I still keep the blister pack in my desk drawer–half-empty, corners dog-eared from two house moves. It’s my little insurance policy against 3 a.m. code sprints when the baby monitor is blinking red and the deadline is six hours away. The first time I needed Provigil, I wasted two weeks and $180 on sugar pills […]

My cousin Jerry used to fall asleep at red lights–true story–until a friend handed him a strip of small white tablets labeled Provigil. Two mornings later he texted me: “I finally finished the deck the boss wanted in March.” No jittery Starbucks rush, no 3 p.m. crash, just six straight hours of clear, quiet concentration. […]