Migraines. Cluster headaches. I don’t know exactly what they are, but the settle right behind my eyeball. My right one. Thankfully I’m blind in that one anyway so I could easily pluck it out to stop the pain and not miss it.
I missed the Tweeting party. Sadface.
Kate and the folks contemplate: relief.
My head is still pounding so we’re keeping this short today.
It’s been a tough couple of weeks. I had lots of moments when some sort of cuss word was just on the tip of my tongue. Sometimes it came out. Other times I “just” thought it. (As if God doesn’t know, right?)
Honestly? I feel relief. There’s a great rush of, “Ah! That’s off my chest now!” This is immediately followed by, “Oh, I can’t believe I said that!”
Yes, I am a cusser. Usually I head for those murky speech waters when I’m angry, but lately I’ve been scooping up bits from the shoreline and sprinkling them into my everyday conversation. I don’t like this about myself; swearing is intellectually lazy. It’s unimaginative vocabulary.
But it’s a struggle. So I appreciate this bit from Tim Hawkins:
May we all find relief from the biscuit-eating Bolsheviks.