I woke up this morning with a consuming migraine. I’ve had enough of them in my life that I usually know exactly what triggers them for me. None of my typical triggers made sense this morning, so my only guess is that my brain was displeased with how much I’ve ignored my body screaming at me to ‘Slow the eff down for a while!’ and decided the only way to force me to pause was to basically debilitate me. If it’s October, November or March, then my life at work is ohmigawthisisfreakinridiculous busy and my body hates me.

I have some powerful drugs to deal with my migraines, so I popped a pill around 9 a.m. and, like clockwork, my head stopped hurting 30 minutes later. And then came the side effects of making me feel half as if I’m high and half as if I have the flu. Congratulations body, you win. I’m taking it easy today and only doing things which doesn’t require a lot of brain effort.

Like making soup and grilled cheese, the quintessential sick meal as prepared by the Modern Mom any time I was sick as a kid. Except the MM would make her grilled cheese with Kraft singles and broil it in the oven, and that soup would be a can of Campbell’s condensed. Grown up sick meal involves a provolone-and-tomato grilled cheese made on the stove top in a skillet and a can of Progresso. Mmmmm.

and pink Guinness Crystal Light.

Oh, and baseball. There will be baseball. Typically the TV is reserved for football on Sundays, but you may have heard that my Cardinals are one win away from the NL pennant and a date with the Texas Rangers in the World Series. To someone who had given up on her team in August (I know, I have no honor) this is a big deal.

Happy slower Sunday to you.