Head trauma

For the past couple of days I’ve had one of Those Headaches—you know, the low-grade ones that feel like my brain is beating against the back of my right eyeball like fingers poking a really bad bruise. The ones that just will not go away.

Every time I stand up, the pain sloshes around, reminding me that it’s there. Even repositioning my jaw sets it off.

(Yeah, I know—why don’t I just shut the hell up? Well, I would…) 

I was at a job interview on Monday hoping that I wasn't twitching or exhibiting other behaviors that might give them the idea that I'm a bad risk. (Not entirely sure what I was saying, either, except I know that at one point we were talking about how to get people to work on something they don't want to and I said I try to persuade them that I don't expect them to eat the whole elephant, just a specific number of toes. Um.)

I’ve already taken the maximum recommended doses of OTC painkillers. (Although, of course, I’d purely like to see what these mythical recommenders would propose if they were inside my head with my cranium imploding on them. I’m pretty sure they’d be trying to dig a hole through the eye sockets to escape.) And I’m fine if I don’t move at all.

Which I can manage for, oh, seconds at a time.

It’s times like these when the notion of drilling three holes in my skull to let the evil spirits out really appeals to me.