Would you rather

Have a lobotomy or a migraine?

Today, I was thinking a lobotomy might have been a nice way to spend the day. As a student was cussing me out for losing his work (listen punk, YOU don't turn in work, YOU leave it on your table every dang day, and YOU got schooled when I showed you right where I put it all before I wobbled out the door) , and I was glaring back at him with one eye closed and a hand on my forehead, I realized I had to go home before I started cussing back.

If you've never had a migraine, a real migraine-- the kind that makes you not be able to see or properly utilize your extremities, and feels like a tiny squad of Irish dancers is jumping on your brain and at the same time magically poured a bottle of whiskey into the pit of your stomach without your even being able to enjoy it-- well, you're lucky. Though I tried my damndest to make it through the day, after finding myself ready to tell everyone it was nap time, I then found myself grabbing my stack of work to grade (which turned out to be the work I already graded FML) and rushing out of the building.

But wait?! Where does one go when you have 3 children at home who would never in a million years understand the debilitating misery of a migraine? Since most bars frown on customers sleeping in them, I turned to my sister. Thank the heavens for sisters who have houses with comfortable beds, blinds, and total silence. (I thank the heavens for the sister who has a house with the most uncomfortable beds, no blinds, and total chaos, too, just for a different reason).

After passing out and drooling (sorry) all over for a good three hours, I awoke to peacefulness. And while my eyes can open no further than halfway, and while my brain feels bruised, and while it took every last bit of my energy to drive home, I was glad I didn't go for the lobotomy. And glad we have our YouCaring site to help me look forward to the days in which I will have a room in the house that locks and allows me the same solitude my sister's house offers!