Not in the Spirit Yet

I had a migraine yesterday which is unfortunate any day but particularly unfortunate yesterday as I had party invitations as well as errands, a whole long planned-out tightly scheduled day with an itinerary and a list with subcategories, which is probably why I had a migraine in the first place but the doctor thinks it's because of caffeine and he is insane

...oh excuse me, I was saying...uh

Well, so I took my pill early in the day. Pain over by mid-afternoon. Good. Still, I am worn out and stupid on a migraine day, long after the pain itself is gone. I cancel all appointments/plans. I cut out every unnecessary errand. But there is one, one, one that HAS to happen.

So I am standing in the aisle at Ralph's in Hastings Ranch (because I have already been to two other stores and cannot find small paper cups for hot drinks) and I'm looking at styrofoam cups. I don't want styrofoam cups. They come in a package of 50. I will be serving warm apple cider to about 12 little children and no one has kid-size hot drink cups. I have the aisle all to myself and I'm swearing at the styrofoam.

Some country-pop singer is wailing out a Christmas song on the intercom. Not a traditional Christmas song but a brand new one, made up fresh this year, probably by some junior high school kid hopped up on sugar and romance, and it's so saccharine and sappy and awful and they are blasting it. They always blast the music at that Ralph's, I can never get out of there fast enough because the music is so loud even when they play non-Christmas music, but this time the music is loud and crappy and I have to buy this huge honking bag of #$@&ing styrofoam.

I can't find the kind of cookies I want and I'm afraid to ask because if I do I won't be able to keep from either shouting or sobbing. They'll think I'm as insane as my doctor is, so I just buy the styrofoam and leave.

I make it home. When John gets home he looks at me and says, "Early to bed for some people."

I (almost) wish the problem was coffee. At least then migraines would be under my control and I would schedule them on more convenient days.

In cheerier news: Laurie Barlow won the final installment of the PDP/PPM Books Contest when her name was drawn from among the correct answers to the question, "Who is my favorite dog?" It is Boz indeed. Laurie wins a copy of At Home Pasadena, courtesy of Prospect Park Media.

I've enjoyed the contest and I hope you have, too. Thanks, Prospect Park Media and thanks to all who entered!