For whatever reason most of my migraines start at night.
By 1am, I stopped fighting it and got up and watched some TV.
By 5am, I was piled underneath several blankets shivering.
By 10am, I'd gotten reacquainted with the intricate details of not only my bathroom floor but the porcelain god that rests upon it.
By 10:01, I declared that all food smells in the house were off limits.
By 2pm, I must've looked truly alarming as SM insisted I take my temperature anyway even though I told him I didn't have a fever. 98.2 Ha. Take that.
By 4pm, I decided I wanted to take a shower and get cleaned up. I tend to have a "power-through" attitude and know from experience that just making an effort to look better actually helps you feel better.
By 6pm, I could tell that whatever bug had grabbed ahold of the scuff of my neck and shook me like a puppy was on it's way out.
Sometimes it takes a sick day to make you realize just how good you've got it.