I sincerely thought my brain was going to explode.  I think it was just a random Saturday afternoon swelling or something.  My ear has been hurting all day which lead to my brain hurting and there wasn’t anything that I could do about it since I had already taken two Imitrex.

Random thought:  Can I say Imitrex on my blog?  I know that’s like a restricted copyrighted logo thingy so if I don’t want to pay royalties or get sued, does  that mean I need to refer to Imitrex by it’s generic name or like by a “fake name”.  You know how they always black a letter out on a product on tv shows – like “-heat Thins” or “Shast-” not that I’ve seen Shasta on tv lately and it’s not like everyone in tv land doesn’t know what a box of Wheat Thins looks like.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been to the grocery store looking for Diet Coke-like generic alternatives that I saw on the latest episode of Friends.  I guess when I talk about Imitrex now I’ll just go ahead and cover myself and say “Skimitrex” and then Ritalin can be “Skitalin” and Vicodin can be “Icodinvay” because I think Pig Latin is making a comeback, baby.

Yeah, so – I had already taken my limit of “Skimitrex” (see how seemless that was) for the day and I’m still having a headache that’s much worse than my scary-bitch-from-PMS-hell day plus some sort of earache or some mutant, killer alien with fangs the size of chopsticks was lodged in my ear.  Having intense and excruciating ear/head pain makes you re-evaluate life goals.  I haven’t been nearly as successful as what one would hope, especially my mom and she never fails to remind me that I’m wasting my potential and I couldn’t agree more – I’m to the age where I hope the guy at the liquor store cards me but I’m afraid they all know I’m well past 21 and I’m still stuck in an entry level job which just got much worse this week and I might as well be an 89-year-old working at “McDoogals” and emptying the trash and cleaning up after a party full of 5-yr-olds.  Or a door greeter at “Walfart” where you have to take orders from a punk 22-yr-old parolee who thinks this job is the ticket to stay out of jail.

So I spent the afternoon writing my will.  I was supposed to clean house and crap and because-I-had-a-killer-alien-with-fangs-the-size-of-chopsticks-eating-on-my-brain I got a reprieve until tomorrow – at least that’ s what the master says but I used the afternoon to decide that I’m tired of being a nobody and when I die, which might be soon (see above – alien, chopstick fangs, etc), I want to give what I have to my husband.  We’re married and have been for years so I guess when I die, he was first in line to get all of it anyway.  Besides, probably aren’t too many people who are interested in lint collections and hundreds of bottles of expired medications – Skimitrex, Skitalin, Icodinvay.  Suddenly I have an urge to taste the rainbow – which sounds a little skeezy but I’m no marketing executive or anything.  If I were, I’d all be like – Vicodin.  It makes the world a better place.  And I guess that’s why I like the Happy Bunny little cartoon because he says the things that most normal, decent people would never say out loud.

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