Friday night at the movies is looking up: the groovy Dr. JG says he'll loan me his copy of Howl's Moving Castle, which means I don't have to rely solely on Netflix for my weekly entertainment fix. I need a little Miyazaki in my life right now, something to alleviate the weight that too often still settles on my shoulders.
Perhaps that weight plays some role in the headache that has been my weeklong companion. At one point on Thursday I was walking the halls of the Paragraph Factory and realized my vision was down to a tunnel, a cone of bright surrounded by fuzzy darkness. I wasn't so much frightened as I was mad; I don't have time for this distraction.
A migraine? Perhaps. I've never had them before but that means nothing. Being a reporter I've done some reading this week on whether headaches are common after a stroke; there doesn't seem to be a consensus, and besides, it's the intertubes, dude, so everything comes with a heaping helping of salt. I talk to my doctor on Friday; hopefully he'll have some wise words and good drugs. And I'll have Howl's to close out the workweek.
I feel blessed these days. A sense of balance has taken root, and I see what is important and what was only a hopeless fancy. Not that long ago I felt the need to be in control, and it caused me to become frantic and panicked and anything but calm; it caused me to lose control. Now I have the peace that comes with quiet. I have broken through to the other side in more ways than one.
Friday the 13th, and I am lucky.