Oh My God the Pain

You know, I'm all for spending the whole day in bed with something wicked. But a headache? What was I thinking?

I think I had my very first migraine yesterday. How unpleasant. Remind me not to do that again.

My very first boyfriend in high school, we'll call him Paul*, had a headache. It was a real doozy, too. He had it the whole time we were dating (and also, lest the peanut gallery get any crazy ideas, before we ever met). It was a regular topic of conversation between us. He'd describe the horrible throbbing pain and I'd make sympathetic noises and stroke his temples and timidly suggest that he might want to see a doctor about it. Years later, when I bumped into him at my 10-year high school reunion, I couldn't help noticing that he had not died of a brain tumor. I think he might have been faking.

Well, it's Emancipation Day, so I'm off from work (ha ha, suckaz!) and get to make up for the Sunday I lost - cleaning house, doing laundry, and going to the doctor who is going to do terrible awful horrible things to me. I'm still thinking of putting that one off... not today, Buzz, I have a headache.

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*Because that was his name.