Thursday I came home from work with the Hurricane Katrina of migraines. I get headaches a lot, and we are currently conducting a thorough investigation as to why this is occurring. Half way through the my work day, Stacy walked by my desk and said, “ah man, you really look awful.” That’s why me and Stacy are friends. She can tell me that I am one shade of pale away from death, and I can say,”thanks friend, now lets go get some donuts.”
Jazz came home to this:
I have been advised from a few different sources not to post this picture because this is, by far, THE WORST PICTURE OF ME EVER TAKEN. I realize that. I know I look like I have just fallen out of a 40-foot tree into a pond full of crocodiles and lived to tell the tale. I see the bags and puffiness, the exasperated ponytail. I am aware.
I am posting this because I have the coolest husband on the planet. He still likes me when I look like this! Even loves me! He will even sit by me in bed while I whine and tear at my own eyeballs! He will even scratch my back for hours upon end until I finally fall asleep! These are the qualities you want in a husband. Those, along with Taking Garbage Out and Snow Shoveling.
Friday the headache was downgraded from a hurricane to local tropical storm. The Red Cross contacted me, and the Relief Society sent 100 blankets. Don’t worry, all is well again.