Fucking migraines.
I've had migraines since I was a kid. Luckily their frequency has diminished in the last year, but I don't imagine for a moment that I will ever be "migraine-free". When I was smaller, it would be annoying but just another facet of life. Spend a couple of days in bed sleeping and being stilll. Now, they're downright frigging frustrating.
Whether it's because a couple of days off with a migraine as a kid meant a couple of days off school (I hated school, loathed it with a seething passion). I would happily trade excruciating pain for some time off school. Now, however, time is not a luxury I have. I have work and school, and dogs and cats and a boyfriend, all of whom demand little bits of my time until I get maybe an hour a day for me and just me and nothing else. Time to just be still.
So when a migraine crept into my brain lobes during class on Monday, my first thought was "Fuck. I do not have time for this." Followed by two more tylenol (it was 11am and I was already up to 6). Followed by a half a migraine painkiller (I can't remember what they're called, but they're big and blue and strong). Followed by 50 some odd hours in darkened rooms stoned off my rocker. Which was a good time back in highschool, when I had the Luxury of Time.
I had some time to think, with my laying in the dark and trying to ignore the pressure building behind my eyeballs. We plan so much, we spread ourselves so thin, and all of it is brought crashing down by things completely outside of our control. Best laid plans, gang aft agley'ing. Yet we still plan and spread ourselves thin, as if we enjoy the Luxury not only of Time, but of Certainty that things will continue on unchanged until we decide to change them.
Which just isn't so.
