There she was, my unwanted but well-known friend, the migraine, on a Sunday morning. The Sunday which was Mother’s Day.
I woke up at 4 am, took my powerful pill hoping it would make the headache go away. No luck. So, here I was, in bed all day, rather than being out and about with the kids to celebrate my special day. While they were screaming, laughing, teasing, running around the house, being told off by their dad, I was nodding off to sleep, waking up, drifting off again and stuffing myself with more tablets. None of them bloody worked.
So, no surprise, on Monday morning I was no where near being ready to go to work. I was just about able to get up, somehow drive the kids to their childminder and go back to bed for a, this time, peaceful day of rest. When no tablets are working, my only chance is to sleep the headache off.
As I was parking my car, a huge Mitsubishi swiftly maneuvered into the space next to me, and an unknown man smiled at me: “Morning”. Trying not to think of the fact he was looking at me wearing my PJs, I smiled back. Little did I know what he’d be up to – pretty much all day. Half an hour later, I felt like getting out of the house, setting his monster truck of fire, putting holes through his tyres, you name it. If he didn’t drill, he knocked on the wall. In a brief pause, relieved by the silence, I happily drifted off… until the next round.
As I got used to the kids’ screams yesterday, I somehow got used to the DIY exercises next door. Guess what, though! That was not all. The phone decided to ring. Needless to say, I didn’t bother. Then the drilling continued. As I, miraculously, went back to sleep… the freaking phone rang again.
Why is it that I couldn’t even get angry? Just all of you go away, will you, and leave me to sleep! Which reminded me that, years ago, when my son was a baby, we had a lovely neighbour who, however, was a drummer. He had that immaculate sixth sense telling him when to rehearse: exactly when the baby was having a nap, and so was I trying to…
Deep sigh, and back to sleep. Until the phone rang again. WTF?? And, still, no energy to bother: back to sleep.
I guess you got the picture. On a quiet Monday, when everyone is at work and you expect peace and silence, someone also decided to mow their garden. I know!! Oh, and the cherry on top was the ice cream van. Come on, it’s not even spring yet!!
It made me wonder, which one was the lesser evil: taking a day off work to recover, or a loud day with the kids at home? Lose-lose situation.
Here is where I should preach the moral of my story. But what is it?? Try not to get migraines, as there is no where you can find peace and quiet??
Or how about that: the neighbours didn’t care about me, but my son did. He did wake me up coming in to check on me, but he cared. He made me a toast and buttered it himselt. He put an extra layer of honey on it because this is exactly how I liked it. He even didn’t protest about having to throw away the bucket with, excuse me, the contents of my stomach. Asked me if I wanted a banana, and went downstairs to fetch it for me.
And made my day with this:
Which drove me to tears. Sad? Hormonal? Maybe.
So, I think I’d rather spend a day in bed with the kids at home… Rather than with DIY enthusiasts next door, thank you!