My brain and upbringing tell me to make the bed, tidy the apartment, take a shower and get dressed in appropriate clothing, but my headache and propensity for sloth are hollering for me to hit the Happy Chair with Outlander and some ice water and call it a day.
The headache is most likely not related to the kidneys (thank you, St. Peregrine), but rather a return of cluster migraines that I thought I had grown out of in my 30's. So, damn, drat, and phooey on it anyway, but it looks like I am going to head to the Targets for some heavy artillery.
(I had resisted doing so because I am terrified of taking anything that will render me unconscious because I live alone. And then, just like that, a big fat DUH hit me in the forehead when I realized that my Jersey Boy will surely have the same capability that Stewey did to dial 9-1-1 in case of emergency.)
So that's it. Laundry and pharmaceuticals. Every suburban woman's nightmare.
Happy Monday to one and all. Here hoping that you are off to a stitchy, happy, swell start to the week!