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Consumer recommended Excedrin: Migraine formula

Posted in Crazy Wisdom on Monday, March 28, 2005 at 11:37 am by flerly.

This weekend was perfectly timed for maximum fondness of memories…

Let’s see, well… this weekend I got to watch basketball, then more basketball, oh and I did mention some basketball, and hey.. look.. basketball, then oh wait, no more games? Let’s go outside and play basketball. Meanwhile, when they had control of the tv, the grandparents choose Lawrence Welk for a while, until Nascar is available. We have to leave the television on qualifying, not that anyone wants to watch qualifying, because we’re all going to sit outside and watch the “kids” play basketball, but because it makes it easy to send that grandaughter-in-law inside to fetch drink refills and check to see if the race has started. Oh, it started? Okay, time to go in and nap on the sofa in front of the tv.

Ooh, did I mention the migraine I had going on this entire day? Something to do with a long drive in heavy traffic and too much basketball the night before, and a crappy hotel bed, and an alarm clock that decides to start its simultaneous non-channel-schreeching and beeping at 4:30am, and the early morning hotel visitors talking loudly, and even the damn chirping birds, and then early morning cell-phones ringing — we didn’t answer James’, why would we answer mine? — begging us to get up and come for breakfast, so we can then sit around and watch more basketball. Even in sunglasses I was squinting so badly outside I could barely see a foot in front of me, and hey… let’s pass the ball to the girl who’s said she’s not playing, and isn’t even standing near us — but oh, the whole cul-de-sac is the court– as many times as we can, even though she can’t see it, will have to run after it, and may even twist her ankle on the damn curb because … she can’t see.

Then, here’s a plan.. let’s just us “kids” go out and shop a bit while the grandparents watch Nascar, er, nap. That’s cool… let’s see if we can get caught in the middle of another spectacular Marc & Jennie front-seat shouting match, which only seems to happen in front of us. Know what? My head hurts still, so I think I’ll use that as my excuse to shout right back to them both, and so I do. You’re both selfish and immature, and you don’t talk to each other so much as provoke each other into a shouting match, which you then forget about and go back to the silent hand-holding. Thus, nothing ever gets solved. You’re supposed to be a couple so you stop acting like her parent, and you stop acting like a rebellious teenager. Nice. They were both loving me. I tried to apologize, but they both said they appreciated the honesty. Sure they did.

And then, for Easter, God sent me Excedrin:Migraine formula and let me have alcohol, so that after 9 blind-squinting, irritable hours of agony, my headache finally slacked off, and all was good in the world.

In the midst of all the local thrills and spills, I was doing my best to check in on my own famn damily, who were all being just as big stressors as anything local. First my mother giving me the brief on the latest brother-sister fight. Then my sister, venting to me on the phone, so upset, as she retells it. Then I talk to my niece, who has even more details to fill in. All the while, I’m stuck, wishing I had more phone numbers with me, feeling helpless to do anything for anyone but worry at a distance and fight the urge to stay on the phone to people all day and night just to hear their voices. The many mentions of how dad was around last time this fight happened, and how he knew just what to say, was also hard to take. I ended up mostly just angry and wanting to shake people to their senses, but what right do I really have to stick my nose in to people’s personal business. I guess I’m most concerned that another brother is trying to cut himself off from everyone.

But, all in all, have to say that Easter weekend was relaxing and enjoyable, once I realized how high my pain threshold had been set by work. Looking back now, I’d even call it a refreshing change of pace. The nice, leisurely drive home in the low-visibility, pounding rain, stupid traffic was just icing for the cake (we never had). Then I come home to find neither Jimmy nor Brad touched the Easter candy I left for them, so whoopie… more for me… to try to resist.

Just call me glutton for punishment.

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