Warning: Prepare yourselves for a rambling stream-of-consciousness blog post, I’m seriously medicated today.

By the time Friday rolled around and I was on day 4 of this headache, I left work early and went to the doctor. My usual (female) doctor was out, so I went to someone else in her group just so I could see someone right then. I’m not particularly comfortable with male doctors, and this guy didn’t really help my impression of them much. He was a little too touchy-feely for me. I’m sure he was just trying to be friendly and reassuring, but he actually patted the side of my face after he was done talking to me. That seemed like an awfully intimate gesture for someone that I’d only met 5 minutes ago. My mom told me I was overreacting and that he was probably just trying to be comforting like a father figure type, but the guy was less than 10 years older than me, so I’m sorry, that’s just weird.

Anyway, he told me that what I’m experiencing is not a classic migraine (which usually last a day or two at the most), it’s what they call a “cluster headache” because it can last from anywhere from 3-8 days. Whee! So he gave me some migraine medication, plus more of my favorite mild narcotic painkiller, and sent me on my way. The drugs seem to have worked, although I still have a headache in the morning before I take the pills. And I think mood swings must be a side-effect, because I’ve been uncharacteristically weepy this weekend. Yesterday at brunch, Dave and I were talking about cartoons and movies we watched when we were kids, and I started telling the story of “Puff the Magic Dragon,” and I just started crying in my omelet. Then we talked about “Dumbo” and I cried some more. Dave laughed at me – I think our waitress was really confused. Then I was repeating this exchange to Kris on the phone last night, and when I was trying to explain to her why the story of “Puff the Magic Dragon” made me cry, I started crying *again*. What the hell?? (And no, this has nothing to do with hormones. Trust me.) Then today, when I saw that Christopher Reeve died yesterday, I got all misty-eyed at my desk.

Otherwise, this weekend was pretty fun. Saturday night, Dave and I met up with his friend/ex-brother-in-law (long story, don’t ask) Michael, which was… umm… interesting. Dave got drunker than I have ever seen him, which was highly amusing for me because I’ve never had to baby-sit him before, it’s usually the other way around. But drinking didn’t strike me as a good idea with my headache (and the medication I was taking for the headache), so I volunteered to be designated driver. I don’t think it was quantity of alcohol that Dave consumed, because he didn’t actually have *that* much, I think it was the combination of things he drank – spiced rum & diet coke at home, sake at the sushi restaurant where we had dinner, then beer at the bar where we met up with his friend. Bad idea. The poor guy was a tad bit under the weather after that. We’ll leave out the gruesome details. Otherwise it was a good night, though. Michael is the first friend of Dave’s that I’ve met, so I was kind of nervous beforehand, but it was fun. Strange, but fun.

So today I’m at work trying to concentrate on the two tasks that I need to complete, which is unbelievably challenging in my current foggy-headed state of mind. I’m not completely stoned, everything just seems to be moving kind of slowly. Oh, and I think one of my co-workers likes me. He’s just a little too friendly – like he remembered my cat’s name, which I told him 2 weeks ago, and he compliments me on random things – today it was my necklace, he asked me what kind of stone was it was. [Aside to Dave: it’s the gray one that you like.] I told him it was whatever stone was on clearance for $7. You fellas reading this might disagree with me on this, but in my experience, it seems like guys typically don’t comment on little details like that unless they’re interested in a girl. He invited me to lunch today, I used the “oh, I brought a sandwich with me” excuse (which is true). I’m trying to figure out a way to drop the words “my boyfriend” into a conversation without making it seem too obvious. Oh well.