Last night I went from stressed out obsessive wacko to hysterical pain-ridden maniac within a couple of hours.
I got a migraine. The kind of migraine that forces me to consider what I would do if the pain never stopped. The kind of migraine that made my whole body ache and my rib-cage make a popping sound when I tried to take a deep breath. I was a sobbing, weeping, buck-naked heap on the floor begging my husband to help me, kill me, either one would do. I took enough Tylenol PM's to kill a buffalo and they did not touch this headache, I just had vaguely stoner thoughts about how Darla looks like a muppet and maybe Jim Henson is controlling her from the grave.
Today I realize she just needs a fucking haircut.
I feel a bit hungover today. Which blows because it is not like I got to shots and dance on a bar and make out with strange boys in the bathroom. I mean I watched the History Channel, and then ended up in the fetal position begging for mercy.
The only thing moving me forward is that we only have two weeks to go. In two weeks this house thing will definitely have happened or it is just not going to fucking happen. Well that isn't the only thing. The other thing is that I have no choice. I cannot just sit on the floor and stare at the wall for the next fourteen days. I am fairly certain I would get fired for that--I at least have to go to the office and stare at the computer.
I ate a quart of strawberries today. I am going to be so pissed if all of the sudden strawberries are a migraine trigger food.