nagi_schwarz | Day 793: Watercolor

Ever heard that song? The remix version by Timesbold. Listen to it. Then realize how my mind has been working for the past few days.

On Thursday night I stayed up to almost 3 a.m. to get work done for my boss, and I was out of bed by eight at her phone to call get to the meeting in good time. The meeting was actually pretty helpful and educational and whatnot. I did my share and then came home. Worked as fast as I could, and then a migraine washed over me. I could feel it coming on, the sensitivity to light, so I popped a pill and hid under blankets.

Only it wasn't quite that simple. See, torture is the modus operandi with the pharmaceutical companies, so while starbursts were firing off behind my eyes, I was fumbling to get the evil pill container open. I staved off the agony that was daylight long enough to figure out that the pills could be taken without food, which was good, because I was feeling pukey anyway. So I popped the pills and made a little igloo out of my blankets and hid from the light. Listened to my lullaby playlist. Only a cop called me, so I answered. And then Ericka called me, and that was much more welcome.

The headache took three hours to dissipate, and it got a hell of a lot worse before it got better. It felt like my throat was on fire, and my jaw ached from clenching my teeth for so long. I came out of the pain haze in time to make it to ninjitsu, although I was a little leery about driving. I did pretty all right in the YA class, so I stuck around for the adult class - and got owned by a ten-year-old. I hurt in places I've never hurt before, mostly because I got thrown by the neck multiple times. After class, I went on a frosty run to Wendy's with Chauncy, Sensei Tomie, and his grandson.

It was funny talking to the grandson - he asked all kinds of questions, confused about the fact that I got to drive my own car and that I lived alone - no parents, no grandparents, no nothing. When we were at the Wendy's and I was getting high on strawberry milk goodness, the kid finally asked me, "Are you a grown-up?" My answer, in typical existential-angst fashion, was, "I suppose, technically I am. After all, I'm twenty-three."

Wow. I didn't realize I counted a grown-up until a six-year-old asked me.

When I got home I took a hot bath, bath salts and all, and watched an episode of Buffy to keep myself in the bath. Then I watched some Buffy, tatted, wrote, and goofed around on the internet, talked to people...and eventually went to bed. Later than is advisable. I couldn't figure out why I was so awake. Before I finally forced myself into bed, I figured it out - the frosty. I was high on sugar.

This morning I was up bright and early to go help do yardwork for the stake service day. Then I went and hung out with the sister missionaries (met Sister Smith's replacement; *woeface*, Sister Smith is gone); and I went shopping. To get some stuff to cheer up Ryan for the bar. And then I wrote. And read. And fangirled more than is absolutely necessary. And now I'm watching more Buffy.

Ericka called, which was nice, and hopefully I'll hear from her again.

But...ever since the migraine yesterday, I've been all weird and fuzzy in the head.

Like the world is made in watercolor, and the paint is running.