MIGRAINE, A FLY, AND A BATTY LADY

Hi, again.

I have to confess that there hasn't been a good day today. Waking up with migraine will take all the zest out of life. 

The slightest thing can drive you crazy, and I have had lots of that today. 

I hoped that going out in the morning for the usual walk with Rex would help. Oh, I was so, so, so wrong.

While getting ready, Rex started barking like crazy. My neighbor's two dogs stopped right in front of my door and sniffed Rex's presence. Of course, he sniffed them too. The concert lasted for about five minutes. The neighbor had as much luck with making her dogs stop barking as I had with Rex. 

If I woke up with a dull ache in the occipital area of my head, by the moment I managed to take the dog out, my temples throbbed with pain. 

Still, the tribulations of the day didn't end here. 

There's an older batty lady who lives on the fourth floor of the building next door. Her only occupation seems to be surveying the street and shouting at the people who walk their dogs. If the dog is on the grass, it is not okay. If the dog sniffs the fence, it's not okay either. The sidewalk is a big no-no. I have noticed that pigeons don't bother her. That's why I am sure that she missed the bulletin stating that dogs don't fly. 

Anyway, she shouts, swears, threatens bodily harm, and makes a nuisance out of herself. Usually, I can tune out the batty lady, but this wasn't a good day. Politely but firmly, I sent her to seek medical treatment. I advised her that possibly a psychiatric ward would be advisable. I am not proud of that. However, I am proud of myself for my clean language. All I wanted was to blast her ears.  

We got back home after a few troubling encounters, like the guy who hadn't learned to use a handkerchief, and I hoped that everything would get better. I drank a mug filled with water, took an aspirin, fed the dog, and decided to start writing, even though my head kept pulsating. 

Well, surprise, surprise! A big fly got into the apartment through the balcony doors I had left open. The buzz matched the size of the fly. Of course, it bothered me and drove Rex crazy. Rex relied on his usual defense: barking.

My headache intensified, and my vision changed. I tried to chase the fly out on the balcony, but it didn't work. In the end, I used a kitchen towel to show the fly the way to the balcony. I didn't see or hear the fly anymore, so I thought that I succeeded in my mission or killed the poor insect.  

I took a deep breath and went back to work. Rex decided to take a nap, which was understandable. He had barked like crazy most of the morning. He needed and deserved a rest. 

Oh, boy, was I wrong! The fly didn't go away and didn't die. Probably she got knocked out for a while. After about fifteen minutes, the buzz filled the room. The dog jumped out of his bed and started barking. 

My eyelids shook. Another round with the kitchen towel and the fly ensued. The latter took the hint and went bye out of the balcony window. 

Another deep breath and I went back to work.  

But wait! I forgot about the preaching guy who occupies the corner of the street right across from my building.

Every morning, the man sets his camp there and starts yelling. Imagine that there are four lanes between his corner and the corner where my building is. Still, I can hear him as if he were just under my balcony. He does have good lungs, although nothing he says makes sense. He doesn't use actual words but makes some sounds. And that at the top of his lungs. 

He doesn't ask for money or food. He comes with everything he needs in his backpack: food, coffee, and cigarettes. He appears at the same hour every day and leaves at the same hour every evening. It is like he has a working schedule, minus the days off. 

Well, when he started his daily show, my head seemed to swell at least twice its regular size. I tried to write, but I gave up after five pages. 

I went back to my bedroom, drew the drapes, and decided to stew in the dark for a few hours. It worked some. At least my headache didn't get any worse. Still, I wasted the day away, and a deadline approaches. 
​
Rex doesn't care. He had his food, played a bit, took another walk, and now he's sleeping after he shot my nerves through the roof with his incessant barking. He had company for that, even now in the evening. The dogs next door helped him to raise havoc. What are friends for, after all?