Now I'm self employed and my home office does not and can not have a air conditioner. I could relocate to my husband's office, or the bedroom, but then I'd be sitting with no back support and messing up my neck. (I write my fiction by hand and type it up, so it's not just a matter of grabbing the laptop and taking it to an air conditioned cafe. Plus, you have to buy stuff at a cafe to get them to let you stay there and I'm trying to avoid that because of the no income thing.)
So I end up sitting at my writing desk with my feet in a basin of water with a cold pack (the lunchbox kind) tossed in, with the fan blowing around my papers, wishing that I was trapped in air conditioned comfort.
Once upon another time, I was working full time and trying to get the novel done, cook all my meals (including lunches taken to work in a thermos, because I worked in the one company in the US that didn't have fridges and microwaves), spending many hours a week at the gym and trying to keep the apartment clean enough that no one called the health department (which included washing all the pots, pans and individual size tupperware involved in all that cooking).
During that time, my migraines happened maybe once a month and never lasted more than a day (unlike the weekly, multi-day extravanagzas I'm treated to now). They knocked me on my ass, but weren't so bad that I actually bothered seeing a doctor about them. (It took a 4 day headache last year for me to finally do some online research and get some help.) If one hit while I was at work, I'd take some medicine and zone out at my desk as much as possible, doing that whole presenteeism thing. If I woke up in pain, then I'd call in sick, take Advil and hit the couch and commune with my DVD collection.
On one of those sick days, I actually thought to myself that it was good that I get these headaches because without them, I'd never get any rest.
Now that (1) I'm no longer getting paid for just sitting at a desk and (2) these motherfuckers are lasting several days and (3) hurting so much worse than they ever did before, I promise to find other ways to relax if the universe decides to stop smiting me with migraines. Do we have a deal, O Mighty and Powerful Headache Gods?