Where did a word like instinct come from? It’s that feeling inside you screaming things like:
- This is a good person.
- This guy sucks.
- You’re going to fight off a migraine in 16 hours, so tell your boss you’re not going to be at work tomorrow.
I get the IN part. After all, it is a feeling inside you. But it’s the STINCT part of this equation that makes as much sense as 4 + 4 = eggs.
Did someone misspell the word STINK?
Or maybe it was supposed to be the word STINT. It is, after all, an instant response to the gut feeling that life is about to tear you apart like a school of hungry piranha.
Sometimes, words make very little sense.
*Sigh.* Everyone’s a critic.
There’s a point in life where a person prone to migraines feels it coming on, even if s/he doesn’t know what s/he’s feeling at the time.
Thus, the reason I’m perseverating over the word “instinct.“
It appears that if my mind hadn’t made the decision not to go into work today, my body would’ve done it for me.
Never, never feed a budding migraine. It tends to morph into a monster.
The jury in my stomach is in deliberation as to whether or not the contents are going to go up or down.
Usually, it’s the headache that gets you up first. Then, 5 minutes after you’ve taken the migraine meds, it throws the nausea at you just for fun.
In case you’re thinking that it might be a bad headache instead, here are the symptoms of migraine:
- One eye is trying to pop out of the socket and take the temple with it, slowly (or it can be quickly) spreading over one side of the head.
- Light sensitivity (thus, the dark glasses all the time that prevent most migraines)
- Sensitivity to sound (i.e., The loud drumming in that muse-sick some guy is listening to 4 cars back has morphed into an icepick stabbing you to the beat).
- Nausea and/or vomiting.
- An aurora borealis flashing around inside one or more eyes (if you’re very lucky, you can close your eyes and tour the inside of a space ship).
Yes, number 5 did happen to me once. I’d just gotten off a plane and had to be led to the front entrance because I couldn’t see — but if I closed my eyes, I was inside a space ship where everything was light blue and desert beige. That particular spawn of hell lasted for days, held in a cage only by nausea pills and prescription migraine medication.
It’s 4:00 in the morning….no, now it’s 5:00..,. and I will be up for a while. Once I get to sleep, I might not awaken until brunch time.
See you on the other side.