Night of the Living Dead
Last night was seriously hellish. No sleep until about 9 am this morning, and a non-stop, horrid migraine that had me throwing up and actually moaning for most of the night. This morning Cipher (The World's Most Amazing Cat, Screw You if You Don't Agree tm) was unusually vocal and active. Turns out we had a 4.1 earthquake in the bay area. I wonder if it's true that animals can predict these things because she was most unusual this morning. Of course it was during the worst of the head pain when silence and peace is most needed -- and here's Cipher, running around, meowing, generally raising a ruckus.

During the night, before the worst of the pain, when I was already having a severe case of insomnia, I turned on the TV and turned to one of my favorite distractions, cozy British mysteries. Lord Peter Wimsey took me until about 2, but I do not blame my headache upon him. A gentleman of his calibre surely cannot bring such ill-fortune.

So, as a result, I've been slug-girl all day. I didn't do any of the things I'd planned to do and, sadly, didn't make it to cat duty. I've stayed in bed, trying not to move. I did get up for a few hours to finish a project that I'd promised to do for Husband, and I do have dinner in the oven, but other than that it's just been me, bed, drugs, and a wondering why some people get migraines and others do not.

Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I had dinner with my family last night?