THE BLAHS

THE BLAHS

I have a painful and annoying headache that’s been relentlessly coming and going for the past few days, and I’m fucking sick of it. It’s sort of an intermittent throb, in the very back of my head, that sort of feels as if the back of my brain is being seized by a pair of salad tongs . . . with each seize there’s a bit of vertigo and an electric wash of pain up over the top of my skull. It’s kind of migrainey, but not really quite of that magnitude.

Furthermore, there’s a cricket outside, that’s just obsessively and relentlessly chirping . . . normally, I love crickets, but tonight it just feels as if that stridulation, all that squeaky scrubbing, is rubbing right up against the soreness in my head.

I suppose this is all probably PMS . . . all last week I kept finding myself weeping uncontrollably over shows on Animal Planet, plus I dropped and broke a bowl (it just slipped out of my fingers . . . I liked that bowl, too!), and I’ve been so exhausted over the past couple of days that I seem to require several extra hours of sleep. Not to mention the bone-crushing, soul-sucking depression that set in like emotional food poisoning today . . . ptomaine, salmonella, trichinosis, e coli . . .

All compounded by the fact that it seemed as if the majority of the day was held hostage by having to do laundry. I loathe doing laundry. I hold the doing of laundry in utter contempt!

At least my check came in . . . tomorrow (which I suppose is, technically, today), I’m off to Yankton in the afternoon to do my Paycheck Pilgrimage shopping at Wal-Mart and Hy-Vee. Dear readers, please attempt to control the secretions of your adrenal glands after having read about excitement of this magnitude.