Half a day at work. Not feeling too good. Major headache. My head, not the job. I was okay until as I was about to leave the apartment then wham, major throbbage. Came home and slept intermittently. Now I find myself sitting in from of the computer trying to think of something to write. I can write about how I dreamt of being at Monmouth Beach as a tsunami was about to hit. That was intense. Ever since the tsunami that hit southeast Asia two years ago, the thought has been on my mind. At the shore I’m always on the lookout for rogue waves. Rogue waves and men in speedos. Both are few and far between.
For some reason I’ve been hooked on Rock Star: Supernova. I was also hooked on last year’s version. The one where they tried to find someone to replace Michael Hutchence in INXS. I’m sure they picked someone, but don’t ask me who. INXS were a very good looking band, all very good looking chaps. Then Hutchence gets an idea and it all gets pear shaped. Now some bald guy is playing guitar and singing Fire by Jimi Hendrix with the house band. A credible job, the house band that is. Headache still makes it’s presence known, or maybe because it’s the show. A reality show.
If I don’t think about the headache it’s barely noticeable, but having just written that it gives me a nudge as if to say, ‘Oh yeah?’. Maybe it’s a vitamin deficiency. For some reason I thought that maybe it so I bought some multiple vitamins. It’s similar to the headache I had this past weekend, but why would it go away on Monday and Tuesday only to punch in on Wednesday? Bad scheduling on the headache’s part, and bad timing to strike as I was about to walk out the door. Minus ten points for both. Stupid headache.
Perhaps I should make an appointment for some trepanning. I read somewhere that that’s coming back in a big way. Trepanning is the drilling of holes in the head to relieve pressure. Hell I don’t need an appointment, I can do it myself. Don’t have an electric drill, but I have a manual one. Please read that under the suggestion that it was satire. I don’t have a manual drill.
It’s nighttime and relatively early, tired but not sleepy. Headache has gone away, must have been the Rock Star: Supernova show. My guilty pleasure. My secret lover. No wait, that’s not it. If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret. Now I’m watching repeats of Scrubs. It’s not breaking the trust that Juan and I have for the show, I believe that pertains to watching the DVDs. Very funny show and no guilt to accompany the pleasure. How uncatholic, guilt free pleasure. Why hasn’t that happened before? This must be what being a Protestant is like. Despite the fact that I’m an atheist, I was brought up Catholic and sent to Catholic schools so the dogma still dogs me to this day.