I don't normally wake up with a headache, but when I do, it's as if my day gets sucked away. My eyes have trouble focusing, the world seems to spin, and I am overcome with the desire to sleep. The energy and will to do anything is almost non-existant, yet somehow I always seem to power through it. Anything that needs to get done, will get done, and only a full-blown migraine will knock me fully out of commission. But I still feel like a sluggish bore, ranked only slightly higher in mental abilities than a potato.
Today was an unfortunate day where I did wake up with a headache. I've had a nap, laid about, and still somehow managed to finish an episode of Lights. Camera. Reaction! that should be live later tonight. But all I want to do is lie on the couch and do nothing. I hate feeling like I'm just there, waiting for the annoying throb to dissapate. Hell, this entire post is essentially me trying to avoid the alluring call of my couch's siren song. I have no idea how the hell my mother—whose genetics I blame for 78% of my headaches—put up with an ADD-riddled terror and a half-hobbit sized brat when she had headaches that would often send her to bed soon after she got home from work dealing with twenty-five to thirty snot-covered, screaming kindergarteners. That would give me a headache; my mom would handle it with one.
And I still just want a nap.