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Sandbagged evening
Sep. 23rd, 2005 07:10 amI had a really good-sounding Resolution Recipe planned for last night. I had all sorts of pretty presentation plotted out for plating the dish. I was also looking forward to spending a bit of time with the wife.
But, as I started slicing the bread to make croutons, I got a migraine.
Ignoring the ominous music rising to a crescendo, I turned the corner into a dark, deserted alley. The mysterious, lurking sinus murderer in a trenchcoat then stabbed my right eye repeatedly with an icepick.
Okay, overblown metaphor. But it's pretty accurate in how it felt.
I've had far worse migraines before, where I couldn't eat, or read, or sleep, or even really think; when I just wanted my head cut off to stop the pain. Fortunately I don't get them very often. This one was relatively minor and diminished markedly with a hot bath and a warm sandbag on my face. By the time I drifted off to sleep it was a needle pricking me rather than a 1" blade. And it was gone this morning (thankfully).
I didn't get anything done last night, though.
But, as I started slicing the bread to make croutons, I got a migraine.
Ignoring the ominous music rising to a crescendo, I turned the corner into a dark, deserted alley. The mysterious, lurking sinus murderer in a trenchcoat then stabbed my right eye repeatedly with an icepick.
Okay, overblown metaphor. But it's pretty accurate in how it felt.
I've had far worse migraines before, where I couldn't eat, or read, or sleep, or even really think; when I just wanted my head cut off to stop the pain. Fortunately I don't get them very often. This one was relatively minor and diminished markedly with a hot bath and a warm sandbag on my face. By the time I drifted off to sleep it was a needle pricking me rather than a 1" blade. And it was gone this morning (thankfully).
I didn't get anything done last night, though.
