Just prior to waking this morning, I dreamt about 2 cats, Puddie and Sniffles. Puddie was my cat when I divorced my first husband. I left Puddie behind (took Indy with me) because she was my younger son's favorite. Sniffles was my cat from the age of 12 until I was about 20. He had to be put down.

As is common in dreams, time doesn't operate properly. Puddie was born sometime after Sniffles was put to sleep. Yet, in my dream, they both existed at the same time. Thankfully, my dream had me divorced from my first husband (often times I am still married to him in my dreams and so terribly depressed). I couldn't find Sniffles, I had a myriad of proverbial hoops to jump through to find him. Oddly, he was an indoor cat in my dream (hence my concern) but in real life, he was an indoor-outdoor cat.

I don't know whatever happened to Puddie. My exhusband lost/sold the house. The kids live at my Mom's and the ex is now in an apartment. He told the boys that a friend adopted Puddie. I don't believe it. My ex was on drugs. He didn't care one iota for the cats we had. There is no way he extended any effort to find her a home. I remind myself that she was going to be dumped off somewhere when I piped up and offered to adopt her in the first place. I did give her a few years reprieve. Yeah, I feel guilt over this, on top of all the other guilt my happiness generates.

I need to go to the imaging center to see if I will manage the MRI. I don't feel up to operating heavy machinery (my euphamism for driving). I also need to go grocery shopping. We stopped for milk on the way home from our vacation. We had pasta and jarred sauce the first night and Chinese take-out the night after and last night (left overs). My husband deserves a better meal but I will have to work on my fogginess and get to the store.

My head hurt last night as I awaited the downward spiral that accompanies my sleeping pill. I put an icepack under my head and the sleeping pill did its magic. I found the ice pack under my bed, on top of the leaf for my dining room table. I detest having to look for icepacks the next day. I don't like being on the floor searching. It hurts.

I have some genuine friends on the migraine forum I participate in. It never ceases to amaze me how intelligent they are. You don't encounter intelligence like this, with the same regularity, in the general population. I don't believe migraine only affects those of us who can string a few words together in a forum (and oftentimes come up with pure literary gold). I think it is the more intelligent sufferers who seek out a forum in which to participate.

Yeah, so this means I am patting myself on the back and considering myself intelligent, too, I suppose. I'm not stupid. I have my moments. I also have my stupid moments. I try to post only when I can remember the date, the day of the week, what country I live in and which cat lives with me (the one I had at age 12 or the one who is really here).