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Another Exciting Adventure In Sitting

I love a stormy night. Except when I’m trying to, you know, sleep. At 3:30am this morning a Zeus-style thunderclap woke me up. I jumped out of bed, with my adrenaline racing, before I realized what was up. Took me a while to calm down, but eventually I fell back to sleep. And who needs an alarm clock when you’ve got tornado sirens? Those suckers started blaring around 6am. You’d think that would rouse me, but I lingered in bed, listening to the storm…after the sirens had died down. Last night I must have spent another 11 or 12 hours in bed, actually. Slept much of the weekend away, and when I was awake I was quiet and still, sitting or lying down in a dark room. And yet, I am on day eight of this damned migraine. Friday’s doc visit was helpful in that he named this thing for what it is. I complained that usually my migraines aren’t like this. They generally don’t last quite so long, just a day or two, and they usually render me completely useless…rather than barely functional. But the doc insisted it was a classic migraine nonetheless, and prescribed some new meds for me. One to be taken next time, at onset, the other, 800mg of ibuprofen, to be choked down twice daily. Sadly those horse pills don’t seem to be helping. I don’t mean to keep harping on the same, dull topic, but it’s become a quality of life issue. And that quality is so low lately that rather than being excited about our impending trip to San Francisco, I am dreading it, if I’m still feeling this craptacular come Wednesday. Perhaps I will experience a miraculous recovery before then. And maybe the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus will all be on our flight too.
Bonus: A British author I’ve been enjoying, Charles Stross (responsible for space opera such as Singularity Sky and Iron Sunrise) has just gone and gotten himself a Hugo Award for his novella, The Concrete Jungle. I’ll have to read that when I get the chance.
Plus: Some sad news, in the ’strange reminder of mortality’ department. Ibrahim Ferrer, the charming singer from Buena Vista Social Club, has passed away, at age 78. Tonight’s episode of Fresh Air will have a segment devoted to him, featuring an archived interview with Ry Cooder. Also…it’s been a decade or more since I watched teevee news with any regularity, but Peter Jennings was one of those iconic figures who, for me, brings to mind another time in my life. Perhaps I’ll listen to This American Life’s “Who’s Canadian?” episode, in his honor.