On the surface, this is a good weekend. Ben called first thing Saturday morning. Mikayla and I did some errands, and it is always fun spending time with her no matter where. She has been so open about the trials and tribulations of her set of friends. I appreciate that. In the afternoon my sister Shanti and her partner drove in. They were physically and psychicly beat from the relentless traffic coming down from L.A. Shanti and I walked to the ocean and out on the pier. Then Shanti's mom and husband came over and we went out for dinner. All of this makes a great Saturday. Now it is Sunday morning and the headache that has been with me for who knows how long has ramped up and I am in lots of pain. I feel like I am at war with migraines, except I am not sure what my ammunition is. I pray for a ceasefire and I don't care which side declares victory. Just let there be peace. I want the migraines to retreat back to the hell hole they come from. I need refugee status from my own head.

I am so looking forward to Tuesday, and hope I can last until then. Tuesday I go to Tijuana to see a homeopathic doctor. Maybe he can arm me with the right ammunition to defeat the migraines. I am really counting on it. I've heard he has been successful.

I just read what I wrote. This is how it is, unfortunately: my migraines have not only taken over my physical body, but they have captured my thoughts, too.