A migraine day

Last night I stayed up late watching political programs on TV. It was gone 12 before I got to bed and my head was beginning to ache. With the added difficulty in getting up early in the morning, which by the way I believe is something to do with winter hours, i.e. long dark periods and little daylight, I knew it was going to be a struggle emerging from bed. I awoke late but had the feeling of being in need of at least another four hours. This was going to be a difficult day. Slowly I got myself together, as if my body had broken up into pieces and breakfast was a matter of gluing it back together again. Put the armoured suit on ready for the Fish Factory and headed out the door into a cold morning. There was a little bit of frost, but fortunately no slow. My pace to the train station was just as slow. There's no rush when the entire world is seen through the eyes of a migraine. I didn't even attempt to run to catch the train which had just come into the station. Another would come along and I'd be there, for now this head was in control as though it was on strike. Getting me back for the late night. Which in part I do believe is true. There is only so far the body can be pushed and it will push back with illness. Coughs, colds, flu, and now an awfully painful head.

At the Fish Factory we are taunted by an IT system which also is suffering from some kind of get-out-of-bed problem. A blue circle pops up and rotates on the monitor. The fishes get impatient, some deny they are impatient or angry over it. Me, well, I don't deny my anger, it is let loose in my imagination every time the blue rotating doughnut pops up on the monitor. I have seen myself rip the flat monitor from it's stand and crash it down over my knee, or eventually pull it away from it's attaching cords to drop it out of the window and see it descend to the ground and smash into a million pieces. The entire office would look on in both shock and admiration and cheer loudly as the busted new IT found it's rightful place on the scrap heap. I am sure we all think it but dare never do. Held back by the thought of losing a job, or the notion if we wait yet another day, for tomorrow, it will be faster and better and just as good as it was expected to be when they first connected it up a couple of weeks ago. Today with this blue circle and my recalcitrant head  it didn't bother me at all. The patience was there and it could not be incited into rage because rage would hurt too much. The last thing a poor demented head needed was a blown blood vessel as well. The circle moved on, going round and round and getting no where, as useful as a chocolate tea pot. The circle is virtual, it's not a wheel of a car or the wheel of a lorry. It's perceptually turning but going to no destination at all.

On lunch, I went to my local comfortable pub, it would be more welcoming if the music had been turned down a little. More secluded were it not so close to Christmas and people decided to visit it for a lunchtime out. Mostly old people. Mostly marked by their grey hair and curiosity of the place. They feel they have found a welcome spot hidden away, but it's not actually hidden, it's just not used as much on account of the prices being slightly above average. But for me sitting there at lunch time is to sit with a cup of coffee and where I'm lucky have a chat with Sparkling Eyes, when she's not accusing me of stalking her and pestering her for attention. I plugged in my head phones and listened to the radio on my phone which was also having a bad time of it. There was  no network coverage. It had come out in sympathy because of my head. Awwe so considerate. Both for me and probably for Sparkling if I wanted to talk to her, I couldn't.  The radio drowned out most of the overly ambient pop music. The pub was warm and relaxing. Except for the grey haired people and one who was for some reason taking photo's of this and that in the place. Bloody grow up you old stupid git, do they never get allowed out? And of course only old people can afford these places because they have good pensions. For they worked at a time when work was easy to come by and it was easier to get a good job. Employers listened. Lucky old bastards. The flash went off from somewhere and I could feel it seer through my eyelids. My eyes got tighter and I felt like sleeping. I could of easily just sat, cup of coffee on the table and dropped off to sleep. Doing my best to find salvation away from this bloody headache.

I staggered off through dizziness back to the Fish Factory and mindful of over extending lunch. I was not myself today. Not myself at all. Not even another person altogether, I was just no more than a walking head, one which hurt. ouch.