It’s already 9:30 pm. I might do a little something, but odds aren’t that good.
My day was stolen from me. Thefted out from under me. Started innocently enough: since I was planning on going out tonight with Lesley, I figured I’d run out and do the groceries for the month I’d been planning on doing for November. You know, all the frozen, quicky garbage that would sustain, if not satisfy, me. Dropped Todd off at his training course, did the groceries, rushed home to move the furniture away from the windows on the main floor because they are being replaced. Then drove to my parents, because the ancient (23+ year old cat) may be on her last, spindly legs, then home for lunch.
And then the most massive of headaches moved in on my brain, a thunderous pulse, worse when I moved. The windows downstairs are being pulled out, hammered in, the cat is screaming in the room he’s locked in so he can’t jump out of the holes in the wall. I almost sleep, catching 20 minutes somewhere between 2 and 3 pm, and then Todd calls for a pick up. Out we go again to get the stuff I couldn’t get this morning, back for twenty minutes when Lesley arrives.
My headache has evolved into it’s own entity at this point, shutting down my ability to communicate at all, and I nurse my genmaicha tea while we wait for our sushi to arrive. So good. Always so good. But our next stop is the pharmacy, where I grab two liquid gel caps, extra strength, and a bottle of water. By the time we hit our usual run of Pet Store – Craft Store (only the cool parts, where you buy actual art supplies, not scrapbook stickers or plastic flowers) – Bookstore, the headache is blissfully gone and I feel human again.
I’m home now, but so very tired. I’m nursing an election hangover, I think.
But boy was it worth it.