HEADACHE HORRORS

Saturday I evening I develop a headache.  No big surprise -- it's that time of year: crunch-time at work, plus it's allergy season.  So, when the ache starts, I don't really pay much attention to it.  I assume I will sleep it off and wake up feeling fabulous.

I fall asleep and promptly wake up within a half hour with a neck cramp and a headache, then I doze off again.  I wake up about two hours later with a headache, then I doze off again.  Three more times I wake up with aches, cramps, pains, and general malaise.
 

Finally, around 4:30, I force down a Tylenol.  Why didn't I take one sooner?  Because anyone who has migraines will tell you that putting anything into the stomach once a migraine has started is a sure way to need a bucket for several hours.

I continue my wake-pain-sleep-wake-pain-sleep pattern until 9:30 a.m.  At this point, my neck still hurts, but I can move my head around.  I wander into the bathroom to get a look at myself:  one eye lid is puffier than the other, my cheeks are red and swollen a bit, and my hair looks like something Medusa would've styled before saying, "Fuck it; the snakes will be an improvement."

To be honest, I look like Nick Nolte's mug shot.

I move slowly, making sure I really am still alive and that my head hasn't exploded sometime between rolling out of bed and putting on a clean shirt.  I decide tea is in order and hope the caffeine helps the last of the migraine on its way, then I sit quietly on the patio to sip the mug while listening to a fifteen-minute meditation through one ear bud.  Two ear buds is too much assaulting on my brain.

I finish my patio occupation with an hour of Pandora radio (Steely Dan radio), also through one ear bud, and finally give up when the humidity level outside surpasses "sweat-yer-ass-off" levels.  Between the humidity and the sweat, my hair now looks more like Little Orphan Annie's, which, I suppose is an improvement of sorts.

Hopefully this will be the last of the headache crap for the day because I still have work to do.  Maybe, if I'm super-lucky, I'll sleep soundly tonight and wake up not only feeling but also looking fabulous tomorrow, Nick Nolte be damned.