On the whole, I’d rather be in Philadelphia.

I reacquainted myself with migraines yesterday. Why is it that pleasant experiences in life are fleeting, while misery doesn’t seem to need a forwarding address to know where you’ve moved to?

I had full-blown migraines as a kid. The doctor said I’d probably grow out of them. I did. I’m assuming I’m entering my second childhood, seeing as I’ve apparently reacquired the talent of laying in bed with my arm over my eyes to block out every vestige of light while pleading with the Fates to “just take me now and be done with it.”

Back in ’97, after that whole thing with my heart, I went through a period where I got severe migraines, but they were of a different ilk from what I went through yesterday. They were “ophthalmic” migraines, and while I got quite a visual side-show from them, there was seldom any pain. They successfully treated them with calcium-channel blockers, and I haven’t had any for years now.

Recently I’ve been battling more severe headaches. Mostly they’ve been of the “sleep it off” kind, and I put it down to my medication (Prograf is infamous for having headaches as a side-effect). Last night, after yesterday’s headache continued to grow in severity, and after I started to notice severe light sensitivity and nausea, I realized that my old friend was back again.

I went to bed at 7:00, got up at ten this morning (after having gotten up at 6:00 to call work and feed the cats, and at 9:00 to take my pills). The headache was still with me at 6:00, but it’s mostly gone now. I still feel really strange though, and my thoughts are disjointed and fuzzy.

My friends, the sub-contractors, are back in force. At 8:15 this morning they were banging away at the rear patio, removing the metal railing with what had to have been a chisel and sledgehammer from the sounds of it. It’s probably a sign of how sick I felt that I just pulled the pillow over my head and tried to doze off again. The Socialist had already left – he couldn’t sleep, so he decided to go to the gym this morning instead. It was probably my tossing and turning that kept him up all night.

Kitten has been in a panic all morning, with her tail puffed up like a large bottle-brush. The noise and the strangers have her practically doing cartwheels. Cattitude does not appear to give two figs, and O’Beast has taken advantage of Kitten’s paranoia to claim my lap and keyboard for his very own. At one point he was sitting on my lap with his front paws on my desk, as if he intended to start typing himself. Pity I couldn’t take a picture of us.

What I did manage to get a picture of was two praying mantises in my ex-enclosed garden yesterday afternoon.

The Socialist went out last night to get himself some nourishment, and looked for our two visitors when he came back. Alas, there was only one remaining. I explained to him what probably happened to the little guy on top. I have to say that he was a little taken aback.