I got a migraine to end all migraines yesterday and spent the night catching ten minutes of sleep between finding a position for my head that would make me feel a little less like I was dying. I’m talking a shivering, barfing, sweating, hallucinatory dream-inducing migraine. It was horrific. I even let Ted sleep on my pillow/head because purring sort of helps managed the throbbing pain. I know some people who listen to techno music during a migraine to focus on riding out the pulsing. These things are no fun, man.
When I come out of a migraine, I am always fucking starved. I felt it lifting around mid-morning, just in time for the monthly outing of The Restaurant Club at work. We went up to a Vietnamese restaurant in Chinatown and I housed a fried pork chop with rice and a fried egg. Then we all got egg custard tarts at Golden Gate Bakery. We lucked out and got a batch fresh out of the oven.
We’re taking eight jillion depositions in one case and the transcripts and exhibits have been sent to our offices all over the country and they are proving impossible to track down. Prepping materials for upcoming depositions has left me more exhausted than an office job should, so I’ve been making really easy, cozy dinners. Tuesday I had pre-made tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. Wednesday, I roasted a chopped up sweet potato and served it with a poached egg and a mixed herb salad with just olive oil and salt. I ordered saag paneer from my favorite Indian restaurant last night, but I only managed to eat one samosa, a piece of naan dipped in yogurt and half a mango lassi before the migraine made me all Weekend At Bernie’s.
I’m super behind on New Yorkers, but I really, really liked this article on children of the “disappeared” in Argentina. It was heartbreaking and impossible to put down. I’m also currently reading Motherless Brooklyn by Jonathan Lethem, but since Lane isn’t working super late hours anymore, I have less time to read. I mean, duh, I’d rather have him home during hours than I’m awake, but I do really enjoy a completely quiet apartment and a book to jam through. Anyway, I’ve never read Lethem before and I’m pleasantly surprised. He’s like Paul Auster lite. The main character suffers from Tourette syndrome and I’m pretty convinced that his verbal tic, intense outbursts of bizarre word association, seriously influenced my migraine hallucinations last night. Brains are super fucking weird, you guys.
