And then, thankfully, I was able to go back to sleep, and actually dreamed about having a headache. Among other things. Other... really weird, inappropriate and totally unrealistic things. But during them all I still had a headache. Uncool.
I have bulbs to plant. Groceries to buy. A house that seriously needs a deep clean. I pile of ironing. So much laundry that I can't even see the bottom of the pile. SO MUCH LAUNDRY. I mean, there's only four of us, right? Where does it all come from? And where do all the matched socks go? I don't buy them in singles. Yet I have 20 socks with no mates. Whatever. Uncool.
Oh, and I also stabbed myself in the thumb with a pair of manicure scissors.
I'm not going to go into the whys and hows of that.
But seriously? My kids are great. My husband is great. My life, on the whole, is fantastic.
But this headache is uncool and unwelcome. And unbelievably tenacious.