Posting Deficit

Boy, have I got excuses for you for why I haven't been posting much -- where will I even start?

(1) Five day migraine. Don't know what's up with these migraines. I've had them since I was about six, but they've been getting steadily worse, and this last one lasted, as I say, five days, and was excruiciating for the last two, despite all the drugs I took trying to make it go away. My charming neurologist suggests it might be the drugs -- rebound headache, he says. Try not using the drugs, he says. Bite me, I say.

mr. delagar thinks it's the rum. I'm more willing to give up the rum than I am the Vicodin, so we're going there first. (I don't drink that much, but I do drink some, and the research I've been doing suggests that alcohol can cause migraines, so, well. I'm laying off for a bit. And can I add? Rats.)

(2) Kid is sick. This was yesterday. She wakes up saying her head is wobbly and her knees hurt. I swear great oaths of fury (remember I am suffering an excruciating migraine) and make her swear she is not faking. She swears an oath of blood that she is really sick. I call in sick to work (mr. delagar is already gone to work) and ten minutes later she projectile vomits all over me. And is cranky and feverish and bad-tempered the rest of the day.

(3) Did I mention our heat stopped working? Not that I care. I hate central heat anyway.

(4) It's the last week of the semester. Students keep wanting me to work with them on their papers. Pesky students!

(5) I'm behind in grading, due to the migraine. Urg! Grading!

(6) No one had done any laundry, cooking, or shopping at our house this week. We're out of food and clean clothing. Last night I fed us -- well, me and mr. delagar, the kid did not eat, too busy hurling -- Kraft Mac & Cheese for dinner. At 9:00 p.m. And we were glad to get it too.

It is, however, almost the end of the semester. Maybe I will have time to read and think again soon. One can hope.

Damn. I forgot (7) mr. delagar's birthday is tomorrow. Nor have I bought him a present. This is bad news. He gets all touchy about shit like that.

I better go shop.