I really, really, really hate being me sometimes.
Today, my migraine came later in the day, so aside from a blunder involving 34 misprinted reports (which, technically, was not my fault, but the computers), it was a good day at work. I have a very nice boss, so generally migraines are the only thing that makes work unpleasant (the stress issue is another matter; just comes with the territory, I suppose). After work, I indulged myself with a trip to Big Lots (yes, grad students lead very sad lives), where I broke down and bought something that I have been mocking ever since I first saw it advertised: a snuggie (you know, those blankets with sleeves). Yes, I am a hypocrite. In my defense, it was only a few dollars, it's super soft, and it really is an enjoyable item to have when you're knocked down by a migraine, which is exactly what happened within a half hour of my purchase. The snuggie and I bonded very quickly.
Unfortunately, Snuggies are very dangerous. At least, to me they are. While highly medicated, I was walking in my snuggie through my bedroom when suddenly, I tripped. The manner in which I tripped twisted my left ankle. Yup, the bad ankle. It swelled quite rapidly and is now pretty colors. Oh, and when I fell, I hit my face on the post of my bed. So, now I have the beginnings of a gorgeous black eye on my left side (it matches the ankle quite nicely). Naturally, that didn't help the migraine any.
Every once in a while, I hate my life. I just hope that no one gets suspicious and starts accusing my roommate of abusing me.
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