Oh the pain, the pain!
Today was a migraine day. I woke up with one this morning (and also with a cat on my head...the two items may or may not be connected) and it lasted until about...well, I still have a headache. Four Imitrexes later I'm at least functional and can be in a lighted room, with noise, and upright.
Migraines are interesting things, when they aren't crippling your life. Part of my brain was registering all the pretty waves of color when I closed my eyes. The other part was praying for oblivion. Or at least sleep so I wouldn't know I was in pain. I spent the day in bed (with a break on a sofa to see if sitting up would help. Sometimes it does. Today it didn't.) wondering what evil I did to deserve the headache and making mental lists of all the things that I planned on doing today (getting an X-ray of my back, reviewing some CDs, grocery shopping, going to Husband's mailbox, laundry). Wow...upon reading over that list I think I'm glad I had a headache, what an incredibly dull day!
So yesterday I went to my favorite independent bookstore, Kepler's in Menlo Park. Heaven! Bless me father for I have sinned. I have absolutely no will power when it comes to Kepler's. None. Zip. Nada. I went in with the firm intention of buying nothing but the latest book group selection. I came out with three books. One in hardcover! (The latest Jacqueline Winspear "Maisie Dobbs" novel.)
In my defense, I will say that I could easily have walked out with about seven books. OK, seventeen. Wandering through the store all my acquisitiveness comes out. I want that one. Oooh...and that one. Oh cool, Arturo Perez Reverte has a new one! And Martha Grimes. Oh god, get me out of here before my Visa card explodes.
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