Migraine Day 3. This is a record for me. I'm pretty sure it's from the crying, or the green beans with bacon I ate on Sunday. One of those. But probably the crying.
See, the problem is people are being nice to me and when they are nice, I can't be angry and then I am reminded of how sad I am that Husband is in Afghanistan, and then I start crying and then I get a migraine. So I either need to find a way to be angry in spite of all these nice people, or I need some stronger drugs. Maybe narcotics. (Just kidding, children. Narcotics will not make you happy. Chocolate will. Oh wait, I can't have that either. Maybe waffles?)
Or maybe some Eastern Medicine. Maybe I should try some meditation--my mantra could be "Jimmy Choo, Kate Spade, Tiffany. Jimmy Choo, Kate Spade, Tiffany." But knowing me, I would probably start thinking about British designers and my too-small Olympics T-shirts and then I will just be angry all over again. So maybe not meditation. I think I'll try massage therapy. I'll let you know if it works. Or maybe not, because if it actually works, I will finally get some sleep.
Today, I think that New Zealand Kayaker Mike Dawson might be having a worse day than me. Not only did he touch a gate and get a two second penalty during his race, his own mother called him on it. She was the gate judge who penalized him.
Then again, he is at the Olympics and his T-shirt appears to fit very well, so maybe it's not such a bad day for him after all. But anyway, thank you, Kay Dawson, for reminding me that if I am ever asked to judge my children in an Olympic event, I should turn it down. I would much rather be their cheerleader than judge.
See, the problem is people are being nice to me and when they are nice, I can't be angry and then I am reminded of how sad I am that Husband is in Afghanistan, and then I start crying and then I get a migraine. So I either need to find a way to be angry in spite of all these nice people, or I need some stronger drugs. Maybe narcotics. (Just kidding, children. Narcotics will not make you happy. Chocolate will. Oh wait, I can't have that either. Maybe waffles?)
Or maybe some Eastern Medicine. Maybe I should try some meditation--my mantra could be "Jimmy Choo, Kate Spade, Tiffany. Jimmy Choo, Kate Spade, Tiffany." But knowing me, I would probably start thinking about British designers and my too-small Olympics T-shirts and then I will just be angry all over again. So maybe not meditation. I think I'll try massage therapy. I'll let you know if it works. Or maybe not, because if it actually works, I will finally get some sleep.
Today, I think that New Zealand Kayaker Mike Dawson might be having a worse day than me. Not only did he touch a gate and get a two second penalty during his race, his own mother called him on it. She was the gate judge who penalized him.
Then again, he is at the Olympics and his T-shirt appears to fit very well, so maybe it's not such a bad day for him after all. But anyway, thank you, Kay Dawson, for reminding me that if I am ever asked to judge my children in an Olympic event, I should turn it down. I would much rather be their cheerleader than judge.
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