I'm so far off my game today, I'm not sure I even know what game I'm supposed to be playing. Oh, right, "work." Yeah, I'm screwed.

I'm feeling like a large pile of ugh, with a heaping helping of icky and a sprinkle of bleh on top. I'm seriously considering leaving right now. I know part of it is lack of sleep - the Fuzz decided last night to have a rather large and loud hairball attack at about 5am, and to then spend the rest of the time until the alarm went off demanding attention. And, of course, because of aforementioned hairball attack, we were worried about her (she doesn't usually have them, and certainly not that big and noisy), so we gave her attention.

The rest is the headaches. They seem to be coming back in spite of my medication, which is obnoxious. It may mean doing the rounds of medicine again, and hoping against hope that the doctor doesn't blame it on my hair and tell me I have to cut it. I don't think that's likely, but I'm paranoid, what can I say?

Bleh, I say. Blehblehbleh.