So, part of new weekly routine has got to go.  It’s a once a week thing.  It was never planned.  And I certainly never invited it.  Each week I renew my resolve to ditch the routine.  And each week I forget to remember to ditch the routine for the days in between.  But that’s over because I’m writing about it.  Isn’t that supposed to help you remember?

I get a killer headache (dare I say, migraine) every Thursday.  What’s the deal?  Is it end of the week stress?  Is it a coincidence?  Is there really any other explanation?

It’s all a bit strange.  Thursdays are my favorite work day.  It’s almost Friday, but it’s more productive.  I suppose that after a long week I’ve accumulated enough stress to cause such a headache, but it’s incredible how quickly it arrives and how quickly it has me seeing double and heading to bed before I’m head-over-toilet, woofing my cookies.  I’m not talking a headache… the kind that hurts and makes loud noises annoying.  I’m talking…

Oh my gosh!  My vision is freaked out.  My head is being crushed by an invisible anvil.  My last four meals are on deck.  I can’t hold up my head.  My hearing is blurry (is that possible?!).  Daniel, get me to bed before I die.  And do so in complete silence.  And don’t turn on the lights…

Thusfar, I’ve survived this dreadful routine, as I will continue to.  But surviving is reactionary, and I’m looking to be preventative.  Something must change.

I didn’t start having migraines until I was at college.  I still remember the first one like I remember my name.  I remember what movie I was watching as I had a conversation with myself that went something like:

This might be the worst headache I’ve ever had.  This must be what Mom and Grandma get.  If this is just a headache, I’ve never had a headache before.  Those concussions have nothing on this… they’re hangnails.  Oh my goodness, I’m going to vomit.  I hate this movie.  I hate light.  Just make a move already! (I was watching the aforementioned movie with my roommate and a boy she liked.) I hate noise.  I want to go home.  I want to cut my head off.  I hate these pants.  Just put your arm around her!  I hate this chair.

Since then, migraines waltz in and out of my life like warm weather does an Arkansas winter.  And I’ve had enough.  My Valentine’s gift to myself was to finally kiss migraines goodbye…  But, as we learn from people, kissing things goodbye (when you intend to distance yourself from said things) is a stupid idea.  It sends mixed signals and confuses the situation…

Come back Tuesday for the rest of the story, as well as my migraine survival tips.