I didn’t see that coming. I’ve never had a migraine before. It’s the most viable explanation for the fact that I woke up to be sick at about 6, went back to sleep for an hour, switched off my alarms in some sort of personal hell and then vanished for most of the morning. At one point someone tried to communicate with me by telephone and it was as if I was a dog trying to understand human speech with the volume all completely wrong.
Sometimes I’d get home and find a trail of carnage leaving to Brian’s room and then the man himself flat out on his belly fully clothed in the bed. He was incommunicado or he was monosyllabically responding that no he didn’t want a nice cup of tea and yes he was fine thank you very much. Thinking about it, those occasions would frequently combine with when he was on the crew for Get-out – the job I’ve been doing. Low light. Dust. Fumes. Physical impact. Labour. And the constant need to focus on the tiny tiny thing that is the head of a screw. Thousands and thousands of screws.
I didn’t go to work. I can make up the day anyway as I’m being paid for 6 days a week and this will go longer than two weeks. But I didn’t go to work and I feel okay about that. At first I was trying. I had convinced myself it would all pass and then I’d go in. I hadn’t had much to drink the night before but maybe it could just be like a hangover.
Tristan reminded me that if I hauled myself in like a sack of shit I’d still have to operate power tools all day and the very idea of having one of them in my hand made me almost sick at the thought. In the wisdom of advancing age, I’m aware that sometimes it’s better to choose your battles. Rather than coming in useless I just went back to bed and rested all day. Now in the evening, still fragile, I’ve managed to eat good food and drink lots of water. It’s just past nine and this is my last obligation before bed. I’ll be good for the rest of the week after this, but I think I just needed to shut down.
Not that the day was wasted. Far from it. I looked at a few actor friends of mine for some low key casting I’m doing, and I started to draw up some lists of people to send to the client. I’ll have to finish that in my spare time but at least the work is underway now. Then I loosely tallied up all the income from the last tax year and threw a vague figure towards Marie for an estimated tax return, knowing I have definitely not got the time to do a proper one and getting the estimate in will be enough to prevent a fine until I can get the figures done properly. It wasn’t a bad year unfortunately, considering its all spent now. Self assessment. Hate it.
Here’s my head in a wok.
AlBarclay 