A-and. Eyes open back in the June

Paul McKenna said, after he'd hypnotised us and made us think it was October and dress up warm and tut at the wind and rain.

It wasn't real. It was always June.

Look. See: it's sunny and warm and things are growing.

I had a stonking migraine last night. I've no idea why. I ended up in the kitchen at 3am with panadol and codeine and one of those head rubbing headache sticks with levomenthol in - whatever that is...

The post-migraine thing is weird. I was too scared to get up first thing this morning and the day was a bit slow from then on. I did get up before the teenagers though.

After lunch Rich and I took the dog for a walk and I had a bit of a strop. I always know how I want things to pan out and everything I want to do - I love being busy - but my body always seems to let me down somehow. As we stomped along I raged about how many years of my life I must have lost and how peed off I was about watching another day fly by. My legs were heavy and I felt completely knackered. I actually found myself wishing I had a walking stick.
Ranting and raging seemed to help a little. It's difficult being angry at nothing and no one, so being outside and F-ing and blinding at the air around me makes more sense than doing it in the house.

I apologised to Richard afterwards and commented that he must feel like shooting me sometimes, but, as he very helpfully pointed out, that would be illegal. I'm glad he managed to put my mind at rest! ;)

Back home I managed to hang out couple of loads of washing and potter in the garden. Richard took Tess for a surf after school and they both had a lovely time.

I harvested our first mange tout and picked our first sweetpeas and decided that if my bad days don't upset other people too much then it's not so bad.
And it wasn't.