Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Office Warning!!! Blood Red Nail Polish, Caffiene, Chocolate and Aspirin


Those four things were all I needed today (and yesterday) to get by.

I wore black. It's a daily staple for me. The only fashion addition to my black hair, black jeans and black sweatshirt was blood red, frosted nail polish on my fingernails.
Something has happened to me on some level that has attracted me to the color red. I'm not sure why there has been a sudden change in my liking of the color. I absolutely loathed up until the past year. Red has also been a hellish color on my eyes during migraines....especially red stop lights. The old stoplights, before they changed to led's, were real killers during a migraine. The light would stab through my eyes straight to the brain like a hot poker.
I was 7 years old and having my first migraine while in the back seat of my father's 1957 Chevy Bel Aire. My father, grandmother and I were driving back from San Jose up the El Camino Real to our house in South San Francisco. The intense feeling like my head would explode and my eyeballs fall out on skewers was even more excruciating everytime my father pulled up on a red stoplight. It literally made me nauseous. I've hated the color red ever since.

Rummaging through the bathroom drawers, I found a bottle of OPI Rock-a-pulco Red polish. I decided that I had to paint my my fingernails. It was an impulse...boarding on a sudden obsession.
Normally, I dislike red polish a lot. I purchased this bottle for a job a couple years back and for some reason kept it around. I don't wear polish. I am not a fruffy sort of girl, never have been. At 51, I doubt I will be. Staring at the jewel tone bottle, I was almost hypnotized by it. Somehow, there was a certain "just-killed-an-antelope-with-my-bare-hands" appeal to it.
Then an epiphany!
Red...It 's a warning...."Stay away! Brightly colored animals are usually poisionous! She's in "raw meat mode"....LOOK OUT!" I was sending a message. ..Period!
No, Literally...Period! Danger, Will Robinson!

Oh, yeah...I don't need the full moon to go full on howling and get furry.
My husband is well trained. He knows that when I say "raw meat mode," steak miraculously appears from the store. Barbequed, preferably (if that's what you want to call it). Some people have debated that it's even really cooked at all. Ok, I'll be honest. Take the cow, run it past me and I'll carve a hunk out of it as it goes by. I like it seared on both sides just long enough to kill the cooties and that's it. Throw it on the plate bleeding and we'll call it good.

Yesterday afternoon, the migraine tried to emerge. Caffiene...a warm Coke and 2 Excedrin did the job. The migraine abated a little, back to it's little cave. A hot cup of coffee (TRUE Nectar of the gods! despite what the alkies will tell you.) and two sinus tabs kicked it the rest of the way. It's the only way I survive the hormone headaches during the periods my doctor is suprised I'm still having. Believe me, Doc, if it were in my power to shut'er down...don't ya think I would have?! Trust me...this is no joy ride for me or anyone around me during these episodes

Chocolate...even the crappiest type right about now could be the invisability cloke that hides you from the by the big, bad she-wolf. Held out or just thrown on my desk from a distance like a hunk of meat at the zoo, chocolate could be the destraction to momentarily occupy me enough not to completely notice the other crap you could possibly be pulling around my desk that would normally get you killed very quickly.

In this office golf game, you're getting a momentary gimme.

Grab the ball, people, and fucking run!