Red, red wine

My day thus far:

It’s pouring out which is kinda nice since it’s pollen season. I’m not usually affected until it’s majorly bad, but I think with the spectre of migraines everpresent, allergy season is going to be worse for me than it has been in years past
Speaking of, my migraine is into it’s second day. The ones over my eye usually last three days. This is not the full blown migraines that I used to get because I’m on a preventative, so it’s not quite Satan with a poker going through my eye, just Satan with a poker pushing into a few layers of gauze behind my eye. It’s not great, but I’m not vomiting. I’ll take it.
So far I wrote 800 words. I thought for sure I was twice that because so much was getting done, so I think they’re 800 Really Ambitious Words that are Getting Shit Done… and they were written during Satan’s invasion of my eye. I want more, but again, I’ll take it.
My mom sent me 12 bottles of wine. She said she was going to. It’s through that Wall Street Journal thing? But somehow I pictured that I’d recieve one (1) bottle of wine a month for the year, not 12 all at once. It’s like… the pressure now. What am I going to do with 12 bottles of wine? Do I invite Axl Rose over for a party? Because that’s what rock stars do, right? Sip red wine from the Wall Street Journal? Okay, maybe someone else then

Of course, this leaves me kind of short because I really don’t know what to get my mom for Christmas. She complains about nearly everything I buy her. No, I mean, seriously. Even if I buy her something she winds up loving later, it’s always like… “This is too expensive,” or “This is a present you want for yourself.” Which, no. If I want something, I buy it for myself because I’m a grown-ass woman and that’s what we do. I buy stuff for her and I honestly put a lot of thought into what I get her.

She complains about her purse, I buy her a new purse. She wants to read my books on Kindle, I buy her a Kindle. Then she bitches that she can’t use the Kindle and clearly I bought it for me. No. I have a Kindle.

I can’t do the wine trick with her because she doesn’t like wine. Actually this is the first year she’s really gotten me something I really wanted, though I have never been rude enough to tell her when she got me something I didn’t want that it sucked. Sometimes I wonder who raised me.

Anyway, I think that’s part of my migraine. I haven’t found her a gift yet and I am stressed about it. She complains about all of the usual suspects: food (it’ll go to waste) make-up (it’s too expensive and she thinks she’s ugly and there’s no helping that) flowers (wasteful and she’ll just have to clean them up and throw them away.) I always send her hard copies of my books when I get them which is probably dumb because I could save that up for Christmas/Mother’s Day/Birthday and other traps that land me into a pit of self-loathing and anxiety.

I think I’ll pop open one of those bottles of wine now.

Filed under: about clancy, blog, feels Tagged: daily life, migraines, whine, wine