Monday, April 15, 2013

Bad Day 279--The migraine won

I fought off a migraine all weekend, but today, it ambushed me at 5 am and I had to surrender. So yes, another valuable sick day lost while I spent the morning in bed wishing I had never been born, or at least that I had been born without a head. After taking a double-dose of the medicine that turns me into a space cadet (no, not literally, Child 2, that is a euphemism for how I can't remember what I'm saying in the middle of saying it), it is down to a dull throb. Still, I have the lights dimmed. What were we talking about again?

The most fun part of the day was when I realized that the problem with our printer is not that it was out of ink. After first driving to the store to purchase said ink, re-downloading the driver and re-setting the printer countless times, it was obvious that it was not going to cooperate. So I had to drive to Kinkos and print, sign, and scan my tax forms there because today is tax day and they are due. I sent them off to our accountant because things are so complicated now we can't do them on Quicken anymore, and she said something was still missing. Thankfully, she is foresighted enough to have filed an extension for us and now I can check through all of my e-mails and find the missing form later--after Husband goes online and finds us a new scanner/copier/printer because I may have irreparably damaged the other one when I was calling it names and trying to get it to work. Also, it doesn't work! This one looks nice.


So yesterday, we established that Colorado Springs is not in Arkansas, but today we learned that Boston is in Afghanistan. Many, many people in Boston are having a worse day than me. I won't say I know how you feel, because I can't even imagine, but I will say that I am thinking of you and my heart goes out to everyone affected by this horrific violent act. May you all find something that brings you peace and comfort to hold onto. I am going to hug my children extra hard and be grateful that Husband is safe in Afghanistan. What a horrible irony that is.


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