A very annoying—and somewhat depressing—trend continued this morning when I woke up with a blinding headache. It’s not alcohol-induced (my life is way too dull for that—in the nicest possible way, you understand—these days); weirdly enough, I think it’s sleep-induced since almost inevitably I actually feel the pain coming on when I’m lying in bed on lazy mornings.
The causal conditions seem to be that I sleep more than seven hours—a non-work day in other words. The other day I had an extra hour in bed because I was working from home and didn’t have to get up for the vanpool, and sure enough the bastard thing hit me right between the eyes (literally). I suspect it has something to do with my eyes—a couple of years ago I had tiny holes burned into my irises with a laser to avoid/prevent “angle-closure glaucoma.” The holes were still there the last time I had my eyes checked, but I remember that one of the things that first made eye doctors investigate my problem was that my pupils are sometimes different sizes, which I guess is a sign of something nasty. The last couple of times this kind of headache hit, I ran to the bathroom to stare at my pupils, and sure enough they were unequally proportioned. Now I’ll have to get off my ass and call the condescending (but madly skilled) eye doctor.
Despite the eye-ache, R and I tromped down to Broadway for brunch at the magnificent El Greco with an old friend of mine from Spain, then zipped down to the Arboretum to check out the cherry blossoms. It seems really weird to me to see young (college age) people down there on dates—in my youth the only time I ever went to look at flora in anything approaching a date situation was when we’d drive out to the moors to look for mushrooms! Ah, but it was a perfect afternoon pastime for a headachy woman d’un certain âge
and her blossom-loving pal.
Some reasons to be cheerful:
- I found some fabulous hot-cross buns, made by the good folks at Grand Central Baking Company, at Rainbow yesterday. Why Americans don’t recognize what to me seems to be the undeniable appeal of toasted teacakes, I’ll never understand, but at least they’re available for a week or so each year.
- The pal we brunched with is spending six months in Granada next year—which could be a solution to the vacation indecision we’ve been suffering from. (Of course, we still have to settle on the summer/fall holiday destination.)
- The Seattle International Film Festival is only five weeks away—which means the schedule will be out in three weeks or so. I heard a rumor there’ll be more Spanish films this year (more than last year wouldn’t be hard, mind you, it was an all-time low), which, needless to say, fills me with glee.