Alternative title: I still maintain that “at least I remembered to wear trousers” is the best statement I could make in any interview when faced with a brain full of rabid squirrels…seriously, interviews would be so much worse if I forgot the trousers…and so much better if I forgot the squirrels.

 

Yesterday I woke up feeling as though I’d been smashed in the face with a shovel, which (bear with me) wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling. You see, for the last few days (read as: 4 sodding days) the neurons in my noggin have been fighting a war between good and evil for the sake of my soul…or over whether or not we should eat the last caramel chocolate digestive…neither wanting to admit defeat. As such, my brain has been that much of a painful mess that I was pretty much rendered useless.

On Tuesday I was fooled into thinking that the Migraine was subsiding (thank you co-codamol), and as the fog cleared a little I posted on Twitter that I had an evening of RHLSTP (“as all the cool kids call it”) and blogging planned…as it happened I ended up listening to Reece Shearsmith explain to Richard Herring about how he had once overheard Mystic Meg farting, and then I forgot all about writing a blogpost while my brain tried to work out if I had actually heard that correctly (it’s about the 43rd minute mark on the podcast). I then decided I should probably stop thinking about it as no one wants to know about Mystic Meg’s bottom burps…plus the migraine had returned (which I blame on overthinking the whole trumping tale) so I went to lie down in a darkened room and listened to my neighbour playing ‘music’ that sounded very much like a jackhammer.

Migraines have been kicking my butt for a lot of years (since school in fact!), I can still function on some level when experiencing them but I’m not convinced I could ever be trusted with a scalpel (you know, if I was a doctor or something)…in fact in some cases I have issues remembering my own name when they are in full force so goodness knows how I manage to make a cuppa without causing severe harm to myself or the kettle. The auras are an interesting event; vision obstructed by dancing lights (yay, just like a fireworks display), the smell of white chocolate (which makes me then crave chocolate) and the hearing of a telephone ringing (which is always bloody confusing when the handset is saying “nope, ain’t me”!)…trusting your own senses becomes a bit of a risky affair.

cute_cow_tea_kettle

I am curious as to how my migrainey brain would compute the sight of a kettle like this…I’d probably be found hiding under a table while hugging it, which isn’t the smartest of moves if it’s just boiled… (source)

So waking up on Wednesday morning to find that the migraine had in fact abated a bit was a joyous occasion (I may be exaggerating a bit), what I was left with was the Postdrome phase – or the “Migraine Hangover”…. Basically those of us who are migraineurs do not need to get absolutely drunk in order to experience a hangover, oh no, we just wait for our brains to throw a hissy-fit. I was disorientated, lightheaded, nauseous, my skin hurt, my eyes hurt, my brain was a cloud of cotton wool dipped in acid (an actual acid, not LSD), all I wanted to do was lie on the cold bathroom floor and sleep.

But as inviting as that was, it wasn’t to be, for I had two interviews to attend…that said, one was with a recruiter so it wasn’t really an interview, it was more of a farcical waste of my time, but it still needed to be done (otherwise I’ll end up annoying the recruiting gods and find my CV condemned to Dole-Scum hell).

I dressed in my (one and only) suit, made sure I had some ID on me (you know, just in case I was found wandering the streets later all confused) and made my way to the interviews (luckily they weren’t far from home). All I remember from the meeting with the recruiter was that I ordered a Latte and was given a filter coffee without milk or sugar…gits!

What I recall from the interview with the employer was the reception area smelling strongly of disinfectant and saying “at least I remembered to wear trousers” when asked how I was. I have no idea what else was said but it must have been enough to hold the HR Managers attention for an hour and a half…unless she was calling the local Urgent Care Centre (as thanks to the government we no longer have an A&E unit) to report a clearly muddled individual who kept mumbling about squirrels eating her hypothalamus.

It will be one crazy-ass company if it decides to offer me work on the back of that meeting.

I could blame this whole thing on just my brain having a strop…however I’ve been sniffly recently so I’m blaming an underlying bout of lurgy too (which considering I wiped my nose multiple times in the interview with a satisfying “ssssccchhhlllluuupppp” noise, I think it is a safe bet).

R x

EDIT: Shit the bed! I’ve been called for a second interview (date and time to be finalised)!

EDIT 2: Never mind, it was cancelled…I suspect it’s because of the bile paint.