Life could be better. I’m on day three of pre-migraine madness, complete with motion-sickness. If I turn my head too quickly, or heck, just get up to walk, I find myself teetering on the brink…of blowing chunks. And I feel like I am trapped in a cage match, with my opponent’s thumbs being continuously pressed into my eye sockets. And the boys aren’t helping. They’ve been unbearably crabby and unfun to be around as well. If I could shoot laser beams out of my eyes the husband’s life would be in peril. Seriously. And the little man has become the boy who cried wolf. Each morning, when it’s time to leave for school, he asks me if it’s the weekend. When I reply no, he insists he is sick. Too sick to go to school. In reality the boy just wants more quality one-on-one time with the GameCube. It ain’t gonna happen, kid. On top of all that, my daily commute, complete with road construction, is killing me. And yesterday the Civic’s check engine light came on. And has stayed on. Grrrr. At least flickr’s new new things, clustering and interestingness, are decent distractions. And I couldn’t help but smile at the little man’s inappropriate but funny word mixup of the day: booty-trapped. But I’m ready to feel better. Any minute now. Yep.