Ass on a stick

That’s pretty much how I feel at this point.

I don’t know if something was already brewing or if Washington did a dirty and shoved my immune system down the stairs when I wasn’t looking, but I am rocking the most incredible combination of migraine, chest congestion, and nausea that I’ve ever encountered. The migraine itself has been in effect since about 10am yesterday morning as I was dropping  my rental car off at the airport, and it would seem that no amount of pain reliever will work to alleviate it.

I wish this was a hangover. Hell, it started out by feeling like a hangover when I crawled out of bed yesterday after a late Friday night of partying with friends. But once I got back here to California, it became crystal clear that I was dying on the vine.  I couldn’t even make it all the way home, instead opting to stop at my parents’ house for a nap and some more aspirin on top of the dose I’d already taken at SeaTac airport.

The worst part is that I was supposed to go to my Cousin Juls’ and Cousin Erin’s 30th birthday bash last night. I actually would’ve, but my dad came home from work, took one look at me draped listlessly across the couch, and declared me officially Out of Order. I drove home and flopped into bed, where my cats proceeded to cover me with their extremely warm and fuzzy bodies. So not what I wanted or needed.

And now here I am…blah. I can’t call in sick to work this week, though on the bright side, there’s nothing major due at school until March 2nd. Still. I want to be able to stay home and die quietly, buried underneath a mound of bedding and felines.

I would also like to eat solid food sometime soon…