Better today. Not well, never well. The pain is concentrated just under my right eye and across the bridge of my nose. It's not awful but it is threatening. It penetrates almost all the way back to the back of my head. I know that is not possible. Brains cannot feel pain. Knowing that and feeling this are two different things.

My son will be staying with his father while I whisk my Mom away for a short trip to my sister's house out of state at the end of the month. My ex told my mother that he'd get my son to the psychiatrist then. We'll see. In just a little over 14 months, this boy will be considered a man by the law.

I woke up numerous times last night. At about 2 am, I ventured to the couch. I awoke at 6 and went back to bed to curl up with my husband. Then I started coughing. I am convinced I have some sort of allergy. I got up, took my Allegra-D and went back in the living room.

I watched a bit of the royal wedding. If only Charles had been an stand-up guy 23 years ago. Edward abdicated for Wallis. That was the right thing to do. Charles is a wimp. Yet, William and Harry wouldn't be here if he hadn't wimped out. Always a silver lining somewhere.

I'm so tired. Dare I sleep? My husband is outside doing inventory on the parts in his work van. He asked if I'd like to come out and help him. No....no. I cannot focus on lists, fuss with proper counting, place things 'just so'. It is enough that I am breathing rapidly enough to oxygenate my brain. I can't handle any more than that.

Here's an illustration of the differences between my husband and me. I am a finger painter (dive in, swirl around, make it up as I go along). He is a paint by number painter (proper color in its proper place). If you take a finger painting migraineur and ask her to paint by number, you're just asking for it!