There's a light at each end of this tunnel,--anna nalick
You shout 'cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
And these mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again
If you only try turning around.
Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button, boys,
So cradle your head in your hands,
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe
this morning i woke up with a remarkable migraine. it was exquisite in its sharp, searing relentlessness. if it were comparable to the discomfort inflicted by the cia, this headache would have been condemned by the red cross.
was it barometric? chiropractic? sinuses? too much red wine? probably all of the above, and then some. at turns i was sweating, nauseated, cringing at loud noises that weren't really all that loud. at one point i was convinced that i must've been having a stroke.
i actually started thinking about the things i would miss out on, would never do, owing to my impending demise. i staggered to the bathroom and washed down some ibuprofin, not really believing i'd keep them down. then i fell asleep.
when i woke up later, i was still alive. i could still move my extremities. the headache was still there, but it had receded to the point of being manageable. and just in time, because i had committed to picking up a treadmill from a colleague at work. she and her husband never used it, and i would use it often. in a world, that is, where i can actually get out of bed and take a deep breath without puking.
'cause, see, i want to be healthy and live to write another day. another headache like that one, however, and i might have to re-evalate.