[In Other Words] Topsy-Turvy

Whoosh, and it’s only Wednesday.

This whole rolling week has been just a little off-kilter for me so far — nothing tremendous or off the rails, but just enough oddities that I end up listing when I should be on solid ground.  On Friday I ended up going out with roommates, and that was fairly nice and relaxing, though I ended up a little stomach-sick later.  (I have a delicate stomach even at the best of times; it’s apparently just a legacy of my family.)  The weekend was fairly fine, though on Sunday night, I went to bed early with the tiniest of headaches … and woke up almost four hours later with the most excruciating migraine I’ve had in years.  I literally woke up unsure who I was for a few seconds, because it felt as if my head had split into some hideous alien creature of pain.  I ended up actually viciously ill for another couple of hours, and I have to say that whatever evolutionary point led us to the ability to have migraines, I don’t want it, take it back. 。゜(`Д´)゜。

Of course, being sick for two hours in the middle of the night meant that my Monday was extremely off — I can function all right on six hours of sleep, but not it’s broken up in between.  I spent most of the work day plodding through what I could and dead-eying my screen; I was deathly afraid of the migraine coming back (since I had woken up with a head that still felt delicate, like one wrong step would send me crashing back into pain).  I also made sure to buy Excedrin after work so at least next time, I will be more prepared.

Tuesday I was still kind of recovering; it was mostly my stomach at that point.  I don’t get migraines — or even headaches often — but stomach troubles are an old recurring midboss in my life, so I settled for eating light and eating a lot of candied ginger and muddling through.

Today my alarm didn’t go off at its proper time — I checked my phone and everything was working; the alarm was on and correct, it just … hadn’t gone off.  I am proud of myself that I still managed to get to work less than ten minutes late, which was really a combination of living very close to my office (on the other side of downtown) and super hardcore rushing to get myself out the door.  My cat was probably very put out by this, since he seemed to think that me being in bed longer meant that I was going to stay home and cuddle him; when I came home earlier he proceeded to yell and then crawled into my lap to yell even more.

So I have been mostly making it through — hopping on one foot more than not, though at least I am still plugging away at keeping up with my writing.  Somehow, in spite of all the other hiccups, that has been going relatively smoothly; I am already over halfway to my monthly wordcount goal!  (Which is just # of days in the month x 1000, so it’s fairly easy to remember.)  I made a fairly big push during the weekend, and even though I fell short of my actual total goal, I came close enough to feel satisfied that it’s a real and possible thing I can do.  At least I can still be productive.

Mostly.

Tonight, though, I’m going to bed early and no one can stop me.  (What a life of luxury, being an adult …)

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