Death Please!

Day four of Headache From HELL. *chord*

No end in sight.

You remember that movie Mousehunt with Nathan Lane? What, I’m the only one? Alright, well, basically like it’s a movie about a guy who has a sweet old mansion that he’s fixing up to auction off or something, but then there’s this little mouse that WILL NOT LEAVE. And he’s tried everything to get rid of it–including hiring Christopher Walken to exterminate it–but it won’t freaking leave. So finally, at the very end, there’s a hose running in the walls of the house (I guess they planned to flood the mouse out) and the auction is happening and they are about to rake in a fortune on this place, but then, right as the auctioneer is going to pronounce it SOLD, the waters break through the walls of the mansion, the place buckles, and everyone gets blasted outside by small but powerful river of water. River? Waterfall? Jetstream? I’m not up for great descriptions tonight. THE POINT IS: My head is that house! Pressure. Pressure. PRESSURE. AAAACK! IS GON ‘SPLOOOODE!

Except that bone doesn’t buckle as easily as an old mansion, and neither do eardrums, and so I just feel this enormous pressure all throughout my skull and it just keeps building. Thursday and Friday, it was mostly around my eyes and forehead, but now it’s throbbing in my ears. And no explosion means no relief. Which I guess is good, because I don’t really fancy bringing shreds of tympanic membrane to the doctor in an ice bucket and saying, Remember Mousehunt?

Because he probably won’t remember and I’ll have to admit that actually I’ve felt pressure in my head my head for months but didn’t do anything about it because I can’t stand you creepy medical types with your cold waiting rooms and harsh fluorescent lights and the poking and prodding and–hey wait! I DID go to the doctor about this. Remember? But it wasn’t really this and maybe if I could have been examined instead of jabbed repeatedly in my face my head wouldn’t have SPLODED.


In other news, I cooked today. Like, real cooking, not my usual, Voila! Ze Ramen Noodles are preparrrred. Yeah. Chicken, onions, herbs, wine–the whole bit. Mmm.

When I began writing this entry, I actually had a point. I don’t anymore, so I’ll just end with this little glimpse into my life:

My parents are in Maraysia at the moment celebrating the Eid al-Adha break. They took the extra-strength Excedrin with them, and any and all trace of mom’s nasal decongestants. I guess they heard about my party plans and decided if I were writhing in pain on the couch, no one would be around to get crumbs on our Persian rug. They win. I pain.

Yesterday was day 1 of the break(ing of their daughter) and I spent half the day in bed asleep (till 12:30) and the other half downstairs on the couch, curtains drawn, wishing (loudly and, in the absence of an ice pack, with frozen rice on my head. We don’t believe in ice packs, okay?) that I were dead. I emerged only to water dad’s plants (I don’t even like tomatoes!), but then decided that they were not going to win so easily. Fine. I won’t have friends over to eat on the Precious Persian Rug, but I’ll be damned if I don’t drive the car two hundred feet to the mini-mart and buy myself a Reese’s. Oo, and these Ramen-like instant noodles look deliciously processed. TAKE THAT, ENVIRONMENTALLY CONSCIOUS PROCESSED-FOOD SHUNNING EXCEDRIN THIEVES!!

But I didn’t cook the noodles and only ate two Peanut Butter Cups (sooo good) and the pain was worse than ever.

So, I got on MSN and spent the evening whining all over a friend. And then he was like, Uh, why don’t you go to the pharmacy?

…What? Are pharmacies open past midnight.

Dude, pharmacies are open 24 hours.

Hmm. I don’t believe you. But you’ve given me a brilliant idea. *rubs hands together*

And then I tromped upstairs and reached under my bed for the little green and white E capsule that fell there three-and-a-half months ago that I was too lazy to retrieve. Moral of the story: Laziness wins! (Uh, the E capsule being Excedrin, though perhaps the other E would have been an effective sleep-inducer as well. I really wouldn’t know.)

Tonight I’m supposed to spend 4 hours finishing a transcript. It won’t happen CUZ DA EARSZZZ but–

Oh right, but the point of the picture was threefold:
I went to the store in my pajamas
With dirty hair
And no make-up (yay for sunglasses!)
Actually, it was just one-fold: To show you my pitiful condition. But actually, it doesn’t make me look pitiful at all. BLASTED SUNGLASSES!

Today, I worked out but couldn’t bring myself to change out of my workout clothes (still in ’em!)–or to shower. It’s okay though because I didn’t go out in public today, and also: my head is going to explode. So, you know, mote in the eye and all that.

And would you look at that, an MSN contact has just signed in. Ah, Therapy.

[EDIT: Yeah, so like the wine bit above? I didn’t actually drink the wine. I just cooked with it. And that’s totally Kosher. But like, Mormon-Kosher, because I’m pretty sure realy Kosher allows for the enjoyment of whine. Wine. Whatever.]

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