Well, gentle reader, after a 48-hour migraine you can imagine how things have been around here. Or perhaps not. And yes, I did say 48 hours.
You know, after a day of not being able to sleep/bathe/clean/organize/eat things get rough. After two days? Yuck city.
In case you were wondering, this means that yogurt posts are waiting for next week because I don't write on weekends. So come Monday morning, we'll get this thing on a roll! But if you're interested in a bit of personal stuff, keep reading, oh, brave readers.
And I was starting to feel a little bit better last night. Just a smidge. Cause that's the thing about migraines. They don't just stop. They slowly let you go.
Think of it like this. Your brain (in my case, the left side) is inside the lightly closed fist of a giant. Then he slowly begins to tighten his fist until he's crushing your brain into mush. And the pressure and tightness becomes so excruciating that you seriously begin to consider taking a drill and going in through your eye, or perhaps the top of your skull, to let the pressure out.
Of course, I'm a rational human being and I know that really couldn't help. But sometimes I wonder...
And once the giant has your brain in a death-grip, he holds it there for however long he feels like it (in my case that part lasted about 12 hours), and then he slowly releases you. Now, it's like any release after being held in great pain. It can feel like such relief, and then you suddenly realize that you're still in a vise-grip, just a looser vise-grip.
Last night I knew I was on the way out even though I still felt crummy, which should have been cause for celebration. But, of course, that only allowed me to see what was around me.
Like the dirty dishes covering every surface of the kitchen. Like the dirty dishes covering the entire coffee table. Like the carpet in desperate need of being vacuumed. Like the strangely spicy smell coming from my pits. Like the Himalayas slowly but surely sprouting up on my right cheek (adult acne + that time + no shower = perfect pimple storm).
And since I was able to think straight for the first time in almost two days, I realized that I just might get the chance to tackle it all that evening.
But then life showed up. And life gave us something hard and disappointing, and Levi needed me. It was a night for talking and reflecting. It was a night to remind us to trust in the Lord with everything. It was a night when I needed to give encouragement even though I would have preferred it given to me.
It was a night to say, "Ah, screw these dishes and who cares that I look like Freddy Kruger. Let's go to Wal-Mart at 10:00 and get a puzzle and put it together while drinking hot chocolate."
'Cause sometimes you've just gotta chill in the mess together and be so grateful you have each other.