Yesterday, I woke up with the most horrendous migraine. I don't often get migraines and this is the very first one I've had since moving out to Virginia, but this one had me low. So low I actually had to run to the bathroom to throw-up. It was bad.
While emptying my tummy of water and the bit of coffee I'd imbibed, I heard both children run back to check on me. The rest of the day was spent moving as little as possible and hiding from all light. At one point the children decided they needed to feed me toy foods. I asked if they wouldn't mind tending to toy animals instead, because the urge to urk was rising.
Luckily by the end of the day, I was feeling much better, but the fact that my Monday had been wasted still stings. Mondays are my busiest days. If you're like me, time is your most expensive commodity and I hate to waste it being sick. I'd also made several mental notes of "Monday will be the start of ___."
But I've really had to try to let these feelings go. Any day can be my start. Any hour can be my start. And as for the missed time to get things done around the house, well. There's always tomorrow.
Ugh, but I still hate it.
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