I have a migraine swooping in, starting just as I began to write this post (and yes, I paused and medicated). I feel it in the bottoming out of my stomach, the encroaching cloud of a pain in my head, and the fact that I sat on that first sentence for four minutes looking for the concluding words of that sentence. It's not what I wanted to say exactly, but sitter, poser, target, those aren't the right word. What the hell is the word for someone who sits for his picture?
Sigh. The migraines this year have shifted from ones that are uncomfortable and make me physically ill to ones that put me in my bed, in the dark, and render me nonfunctional. They give me word salad, fry my brain and make me less than stellar in my verbal ability. They also frak my spelling up horribly; if the browser didn't pick up my misspellings, well, none of this would make sense. Let's be honest, though, I have no real way of knowing until this latest mind storm passes (and I spelled that first with no p) if this really makes sense.
I dislike this new way of being, the fact that these happen at least once a week and disrupt my life again. I had a breather, about a year, where the preventative worked, but I stopped it because of side effects. I guess I'll have to resume it again.
And until then I'll go back to bed and hope that it passes soon, so that I can take Bobby with me to the college's Ranch Day and watch my students engage in fun competition.
Y'all can let me know if I made any sense.