I left work at one today because I was feeling nauseous and cranky and my head was about to explode. Fuzzy spent the last two days home sick with similar symptoms (minus the cranky), so it wasn’t a surprise, really, but I don’t like giving in to not feeling well. It’s one thing if I’m home already, and have nothing planned, but leaving work in the middle of the day is not a habit I really want to get into.

Fuzzy also left work at one, poor dear he’s sniffly and achy now, and okay, he bought a new game, but he’s not enjoying it as much as he should be.

On the way home, we stopped at Albertsons, not because we prefer it to Tom Thumb (we don’t), but because it was on the more convenient side of the street. I was the least sick to running into the store was my task, even though it meant trekking into the hated drugstore section.

Truthfully, I didn’t begin to hate the pharmacy section until Texas enacted legislation that required any over the counter drug containing pseudoephedrine to be put BEHIND the counter, and further require photo ID in order to buy it. This is an annoying and time consuming bit of legislation put in place to help prevent homemade crysal meth. Because really, that’s what we should worry about, and not things like immigration law, or reproductive choice (including the right to birth control), or the fact that we’re an oil state and our gas is still almost $3/gallon. So now, in order to get my Actifed (or it’s generic equivalent), I have to stand in line behind unwashed miscreants like the guy who was in front of me last Tuesday trying to use double coupons at the pharmacy aisle, with pharmacists who didn’t know how to process double coupons, and who, after they went and got the manual and figured it out, decided not to buy the ibuprofen (or whatever) because it was a total price of $2 instead of $1, and he was convinced they were overcharging him. And yeah, okay, there are other antihistamines out there, but Claritin makes me vomit, Allegra does nothing for me, and Benadryl makes me sleepy and makes my ears feel like someone is jabbing my eardrums with needles.

But I digress.
I went in for Nyquil and Dayquil.
I came out with just Nyquil, because apparently we have even newer legislation that limits the AMOUNT of drugs containing pseudoephedrine you can buy at one time, and apparently a bottle of each kind was over the limit. (Fuzzy, who had gone to Hollywood Video to buy me a DVD (The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, if you must know) had to go back in and buy the DayQuil on a separate ticket, after yelling at me that I was making things up, and should have just made them sell me the dayquil when the self service thing locked my transaction and called for help.

So, a frustrating afternoon.
And all because of people who can’t live without crystal meth.
Which you can’t make from the LIQUID form of pseudoephedrine, anyway.
And now I’m panicked that they’ll decide I can’t buy 48 tablets of Actifed at once.

(Mind you, we use the store brands of the Dayquil/Nyquil stuff, as well as the Actifed, but if I called it by the generic name no one would know what I was talking about.)

I think I need to go back to bed now.

Fuzzy and I celebrated our eleventh anniversary on March 24th, and my gift to him (well, to us) was season passes to Scarborough Faire, the local renaissance festival, which opened on April 8th, which means that I got to have my hair braided (nothing hugely fancy, a pair of French braids, coiled, pinned, and decorated with a few twists), which I love because I tend to just stick my hair in ponytails because while I like it long, I have no talent or patience for styling, and I cannot stand having my hair in my face. The braids lasted from Saturday morning through Monday evening, with a light washing. I wish I could have someone braid my hair for me every morning – guess I’ll have to convince Fuzzy that he needs to learn how. He offered once, and I made the mistake of ignoring him.

Because I’ve been flirting with a tattoo, but have committment issues, I decided to try the henna tattoo services they offer just across the green from my braiders of choice (Twisted Sisters, just beyond the misting bridge, if you’re local). I’m now sporting a very cute seahorse (which I’m told is a symbol of luck and magic) on my right hand, and oddly, everyone at work was gushing over it. Probably this is merely because we’ve all been stuck in a training class half a day, every day, for the last two weeks, but whatever the reason, the attention’s been kind of fun.

Less fun are the horrible headaches I’ve been having, which I assumed were sinus, but now suspect may be migraines. Fuzzy pointed out that I always get really crabby the day before I wake up with my head pounding so hard I’m literally in tears, but I’ve yet to find the time to see my doctor and talk to her about it. (Somewhat ironically, I was headache free the entire time my hair was braided and pinned, and am only feeling a small pulsing sensation above my temples, tonight).

This weekend, we’ll go back to Scarborough to see shows, since all we did was shop last week. (I’m now the proud owner of a cool gryphon shoulder puppet, and a lovely necklace, bracelet, and earrings from the folks at LUCIA, among other things.

And on that note ( and on the arrival of Fuzzy and the dogs in the bedroom) I am going to sleep. More tomorrow.