Tell Me Why I Don't Like Mondays

After most of the weekend in bed, and barely any decent sleep for about 5 nights, Monday rolled around with its bible-seller grin and clenched handshake of conviction. My body's reaction was to turn its mouth down at the corners, set off alarm bells and spread out the welcome mat for a migraine hoedown.

I did my best to shoe away the party guests, roll down the drapes and put away the cheap plastic tableware set up so hastily for the shindig. I ate breakfast and had a hot drink, thinking the food would help. I got dressed and primped and preened, and put on my face all ready for work. Face cream and perfume; mascara and toothpaste. Everything was done. Even pigtails - the illusion of Youth! Surely *that* would send the hangers-on away, even as they grabbed at the punch-bowl and made towards the karaoke stage.

And so we headed out the door on our way to work. I was sure I had succeeded, and if any plastic cups were left to be tossed, or paper streamers to be swept away, I could have a cup of the All Healing tea at work and that would do the trick.

But I was naive. You would think I might have learned by now. You can't just send the party away... it just sets up outside! When we walked into the Bangkok morning, the wall of heat hit me like a constipated dump truck (think about it). After 5 minutes I was not in a good way and all bets were off. I could hear the karaoke machine starting up and see the queue for the port-a-loos. Already they were running out of potato salad and the smoke from the BBQ was making me nauseous.

Yup, the Migraine Hoedown was on! Naught to do but curl up in bed, step aside and get carried into its madness.



The Out Campaign: Scarlet Letter of Atheism