My day thus far:
- It’s pouring out which is kinda nice since it’s pollen season. I’m not usually affected until it’s majorly bad, but I think with the spectre of migraines everpresent, allergy season is going to be worse for me than it has been in years past
- Speaking of, my migraine is into it’s second day. The ones over my eye usually last three days. This is not the full blown migraines that I used to get because I’m on a preventative, so it’s not quite Satan with a poker going through my eye, just Satan with a poker pushing into a few layers of gauze behind my eye. It’s not great, but I’m not vomiting. I’ll take it.
- So far I wrote 800 words. I thought for sure I was twice that because so much was getting done, so I think they’re 800 Really Ambitious Words that are Getting Shit Done… and they were written during Satan’s invasion of my eye. I want more, but again, I’ll take it.
- My mom sent me 12 bottles of wine. She said she was going to. It’s through that Wall Street Journal thing? But somehow I pictured that I’d recieve one (1) bottle of wine a month for the year, not 12 all at once. It’s like… the pressure now. What am I going to do with 12 bottles of wine? Do I invite Axl Rose over for a party? Because that’s what rock stars do, right? Sip red wine from the Wall Street Journal? Okay, maybe someone else then
Of course, this leaves me kind of short because I really don’t know what to get my mom for Christmas. She complains about nearly everything I buy her. No, I mean, seriously. Even if I buy her something she winds up loving later, it’s always like… “This is too expensive,” or “This is a present you want for yourself.” Which, no. If I want something, I buy it for myself because I’m a grown-ass woman and that’s what we do. I buy stuff for her and I honestly put a lot of thought into what I get her.
She complains about her purse, I buy her a new purse. She wants to read my books on Kindle, I buy her a Kindle. Then she bitches that she can’t use the Kindle and clearly I bought it for me. No. I have a Kindle.
I can’t do the wine trick with her because she doesn’t like wine. Actually this is the first year she’s really gotten me something I really wanted, though I have never been rude enough to tell her when she got me something I didn’t want that it sucked. Sometimes I wonder who raised me.
Anyway, I think that’s part of my migraine. I haven’t found her a gift yet and I am stressed about it. She complains about all of the usual suspects: food (it’ll go to waste) make-up (it’s too expensive and she thinks she’s ugly and there’s no helping that) flowers (wasteful and she’ll just have to clean them up and throw them away.) I always send her hard copies of my books when I get them which is probably dumb because I could save that up for Christmas/Mother’s Day/Birthday and other traps that land me into a pit of self-loathing and anxiety.
I think I’ll pop open one of those bottles of wine now.