Ow, My Hair Hurts


I Hate Waking Up Like This

I really do hate waking up sometimes.  I know it’s a bad day when I look in the mirror and see this creature looking back at me.  And I know that it’s a really bad day if I’m in pain.  My head hurts so badly that my hair hurts, I kid you not, it hurts to touch my head.  Weird.

But worst of all is when I wake up swearing.  I’ll spare you the profanity but the gist of it goes like this:  I hate this, I hate waking up, I don’t want to face myself, I hate the world, I hate being who I am and I hate everyone on this F#$%@n’ planet.

Coffee doesn’t help my headache.  Trying to change my attitude isn’t working very well because the only other attitude I can come up with is actually worse than the one I’m trying to replace.  The insides of my arms are sore, they pulse and hurt.  My stomach is balled up in a knot of electricity.

But then, why the f#$k should you people care?  You’ve got your own s#$t to deal with, right?  Woe is me.  Hey everybody, nice of you to drop by, get out and I’ll see you tomorrow if I come out of the bear cave.

Nah, that’s just bad manners.

I’m not mad at people, they are who they are and I am what I am.  And yes, it’s hard to face who I am sometimes, just like you folks have had to do from time to time, I’m sure.  No, I don’t hate everyone on the planet, just most of you when I’m in this mood.  I don’t hate the world, it’s a pretty nice place for the most part, but I have to admit that there are times like this morning where I just don’t give a f@#k about it.

Oh, yes, I am a monster this morning, no doubt of it.


Today I’m A Nine On The Chart

Oh, fine, I’m not that bad.  Maybe I’m just putting up with a bad headache and that puts me at around five on the scale, but it sure feels like a ten.  I’d welcome it if my head exploded.  At least the pressure would stop but then again, so would everything else, so that’s not what I want.

What do I want?  I want to make it stop.  Ibuprofen, coffee, swearing.  It helps.  But not today.

mad scientist

Flimsy Isn’t The Only One Who’s Mad

So what to do?  Relaxation exercises?  Nope.  I couldn’t relax if I tried.  Meditation?  Yeah, maybe, but the only thing that comes into my mind is the word OW, not the word OM.  Scotch?  No, I quit drinking so long ago that if I had a thimbleful of liquor it would knock me out and besides, scotch for breakfast is just plain sad.

Oh, wait!  I think I know!



That’s Not What I Meant

How unfortunate. I want to change my headache and therefore must wade through the pain to get there.

You psychological people totally are f@#$%d.  What kind of s@#t psychology is that?  I’m in pain and that’s what you come up with?

I hate it when you’re right.


Oh, Fine, Anything To Stop The Pain

I admit I’m misérable.  And I admit that the only way to get better is to work for change.  I get it.  But there are times when I’m just not ready for it and it means hanging on to my head and just giving vent to the stupid pain.  I’ll yell, snipe, growl, harrumph, complain, whatever.  If that’s what it takes to get to the point of change, do it.

Just don’t aim it at other people.  Now’s not the time to start a fight because you’re going to regret it and besides, you’re already in a fight.  And believe it, that’s true.  You have to fight for change.

So forget me today.  Don’t bother calling, don’t email, don’t send a f@#$%n’ carrier pigeon.  Just let me get through this and then perhaps once I’ve changed we can do something civilized like sit down for tea and refill our medications online together.


Wise-Crazycat Is Crazycat-Wise

Maybe in the end it’s just better to accept that some days are crazier than others, and that there’s different kinds of crazy.  Pain makes me crazy.  Life makes me crazy.  Maybe it’s time to accept the crazy and work to change the pain rather than accept the crazy and make other people — and myself — misérable.


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