THE SECRET LIFE OF IFU! (I FEEL UGH!)

Migraines are no joke. To all of my peeps that suffer with them from time to time, or worse, on a regular basis... I feel for you my friends.

I not only woke up with one, but I endured a sleepless night with an unwelcome throbbing, pounding pain in my head. I have to be honest...of all the partners I'd choose to sleep with, migraines do not even make the list that includes Colin Firth (before he was gay in Mama Mia, and before I found out he was very happily married to a gorgeous Italian woman), and buff men in their 30's (who never have to speak at all when we're done).

So this morning, I have to tell you, I would've liked to have woken up alone, but I didn't. In fact, my room was pretty crowded. There was a huge black cloud hovering over the bed, some kind of sadness kept poking me in my ribs, and of course there was the migraine. But the worst thing was that my get up and go was missing and without it, I couldn't even look for it...sigh.

Luckily, I have a secret remedy. It's plentiful and pretty much always around except between the hours of 7:30 am and 3:00pm Monday thru Friday, and even then, its essence lingers, pushing me to do better each day. I know you all wish that you could possess this magic that keeps me going. I can feel the longing and the impatience to find out what it is...well, the good news is that some of you do not have to look farther than your own home...the secret remedy is not so secret. It's just really powerful. It's my... kids.

When my youngest peeked her head in this morning, she didn't see the unwelcome crowd, she just saw Mom still in bed on a Sunday..the day that we reserve for mother/daughter bonding. Her face dropped when I said, "Honey, I'm sorry. I just don't feel well this morning." She's the baby, and although she shops in the women's section for bathing suits, she will always be my baby, and  my heart broke when I saw how disappointed she was. My migraine smacked me repeatedly as I said, "Ya know what sweetie? Let's get our clothes on and return that shirt to the Mall before we can't anymore."

RESULT: Sharp throbbing pain to the cranium, wave of nausea to the stomach = Migraine is a jealous bitch who doesn't like to share.

I thought, "In your face!" as I slowly put on my clothes. The dark cloud retaliated with, "You're going to die alone Loser!", but I ignored it...nothing would keep me from seeing my baby's face light up again the way it did when I told her we'd go shopping.

My girl knew what a sacrifice I was making. I am not a woman who enjoys shopping. But I realize that we need new things from time to time, and I'm one of those untrusting types that does not shop online very often. I want to see what I'm getting for my money...free shipping or no free shipping.

So usually, my family knows that they need to go in prepared. They have about an hour before I lose interest and start getting cranky...I become the eight year old whining, "Are we done yet?" every five seconds and taking all the pleasure out of spending money on pretty things.

But this time was different. My daughter was prepared to exchange the unwanteds for something cool and usable, and then we'd get out, me clinging to my Starbucks coffee cup like a life jacket, and her grateful that we'd be done before I had a seizure next to the fish pond on the lower level.

Instead, we finished in Aeropostale, and I agreed to go to Charlotte Russe, even detouring into Walmart for saltines along the way. From there I suggested that we go to Rue 21 and was rewarded when the guy from the cell phone store stopped us, looked up my phone number on his iPad, and informed me that I was long overdue for a free upgrade. After picking up a pair of jeans from Wet Seal, we left...not because I was irritated, but because we decided not to spend any more money.







As a writer, dependent upon my words for income, my shopping trip is research, a tax deduction I will absolutely include next year, and as I finger my new necklace and feel every bit as LOVELY as the gold-plated jewlery suggests, I decide that I'm going to file those receipts under MEDICAL as well...maybe shopping is therapy after all...my headache is gone and I'm in a much better mood than I would've been if I'd have stayed for the pity party in my bedroom.  









CF Winn is the award winning author of SUKI...now available for KINDLE:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BJVSHPE
and for NOOK:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/suki-cf-winn/1114686016?ean=2940016344898

WHAT'S YOUR STORY?? MEET CHANTAY

Meet Chantay:


This hopeless romantic grew up believing that her mother had mind-reading/super-hearing powers , because "she always knew, or had some idea of what I was about to do."
"It never occured to me that I was the youngest of four, and that one of my siblings had probably already tried to do many, if not all of the same things. A lot of times when I thought I was being secretive and whispering, she overheard everything I was saying, because I just really did not know how to whisper."

When Chantay was in 7th grade, her friends decided to smoke before school. They planned it out and assigned each person a supply that they were to bring. Vanessa was supposed to sneak cigarettes, Lucille had gum, and Chantay stocked up on matches. The morning of the great smokescapade, as Chantay was leaving the house, her mother said, " Have a good day... and if I ever catch you smoking I will make you eat the ashes."
'Nuff said. Chantay did not meet up with her friends, and her mother's extrasensory persona went live: "I was convinced that my mother was a mind-reading/ super-hearing woman."

Now, all grown up, Chantay is a teacher. If she asked her students, she's sure they would confirm that she had inherited the ability to read minds because, "I always know what is going on. If they are about to tell me something, I say that I'm already aware, and they can't understand how...just like the way my mom knew with me."

"The truth is, my students have also never mastered the art of whispering, and they assume that when they're talking around me, I have my head buried in paperwork, so I'm not listening. They know nothing about multitasking, and have no idea that I hear everything they say, whether it's good or bad, without looking up. Most of the time I intervene before the drama happens. They act like they hate it, but I'm sure they are thanking me later...just not to my face."

To most, Chantay is a fun loving, free spirit. She attributes that to her parents: "If the gift of gab is a power, then I got that from my mom. If humor is too, then I inherited that from my dad."









Those abilities landed her a ticket to Superbowl XLVII where she was seen holding up a handwritten sign:



... and after a bit of Mardi Gras fun, she took off for Trinidad where she is presently dancing and mocking the East Coast blizzard (and this writer!) from the comfort of a 90 degree beach.



I asked her what she thinks about when she is talking to people. Her mischievous smile is always the same, and it made me question what goes on behind it.

She answered: "When I was a waitress and had extremely annoying costumers, I would wonder if they have friends, or why would they come out the house looking the way that they did at the time...then I would start to wonder if when I go out to restaurants, do the waitresses think the same things about me?!"

I pressed a little bit more. There's an eternally romantic side to Chantay that sometimes gets lost in the KAFE CASTROesque public persona she presents:



Like what you see? To read the rest, and to find out who killed Chantay's boyfriend, go to:
http://www.readsuki.com/whats-your-story/