I’ve just called in sick. I never do this. But my head is starting to pound and I feel sick to my stomache. Hello, sudden onset menopausal migraine. I’ve tried to do the tours before with a migraine and it is so horrible and doesn’t feel safe.
My boss was not pleased. The trouble with being so valued at work is that I am necessary to it. If I worked in an office, I would go in. With the proviso that the lights be off and that I am within three running paces of a toilet. After all, migraine isn’t catching.
But I don’t feel safe to drive others around. Why am I made to feel guilty about that? They don’t pay me for sick days and I soldier through every other time.
I knew this was coming on last night. A combination of two visually stimulating Terminator DVDs and a glass or two of red wine, shared with first my exhusband and then my current squeeze. I slept and woke and slept and got up to make BF breakfast and lunch and then felt like my brain was being mashed in one of those car crusher machines.
I can’t help being sick. I wish my boss would at least absolve me a little, by saying that she udnerstands and is grateful for me not wanting to drive incapacitated.
Back to bed, to moan and fight the demon inmy head. Words are looking blurry, halo over everything