No. Sounds lovely but not true.
Yesterday’s migraine. Oh what a migraine it was!
Today it’s tapering off, in the final phase, in what’s called the postdromal phase.
Yes, research and science have found four migraine stages: (1) predromal phase – early warning signs; (2) aura phase – strange feelings start; (3) attack phase – migraine underway; (4) postdromal phase – after migraine.
Each phase has distinct and discernible characteristics.
However, I’m not here as a scientist, rather a migraineur.
Yesterday’s was a real doozy. Once I got through my 4-5 p.m. work shift, all I wanted to do was go home.
Shut out the world. Lie down on my bed.
Open all windows to let in the clean refreshing cool air after the monsoon.
Close my eyes. Rest. Breathe in the quiet.
I could have none of it.
Because my neighbor James never turns off the monstrosity that is his swamp cooler. The tally to date: 2-30. That’s wins to losses after he promised to shut off the Noisy Beast when it’s not hot (it’s not) and when he’s away.
Well, he’s away like all the time. And the mother-er still runs.
But back to the migraine.
I need my home. I need my home to be my sanctuary. A place of respite. Safety. Peacefulness. I’ve paid my dues a thousand times over with domestic wars, abuses, upheavals, distresses starting in childhood. Oh the stories I could write about roommates!
I’m 59 now. It’s time for my home to be a good thing not a hell on earth to escape.
James isn’t a bad person. However, he is a bad neighbor. He can do better. We need to talk again.
But how do you talk with someone who’s never home and yet the Montrosity spins and spins and spins, screeching its siren, 24/7?! Every day of the week. Every week of the month. Rain or shine. Cloudy or clear.
Swear to god, it could be snowing and he’d be running it! He’s just … well, a bad neighbor. At this time.
Back to the migraine.
I couldn’t go home for relief for obvious reasons. His metal beast is outside my bedroom window. It’s audible through the walls and with all windows and doors sealed.
Actually it’s on the side with the most windows and doors — also a problem. I’ve been forced to keep them closed for the past month+ even though my nature and desire are to have them open for fresh air and circulation. I told him that.
It’s a mobile-home park so spaces are tight and narrow, sounds audible and amplified.
I am beside myself with frustration and rage toward James for this past month where he’s failed so miserably in doing the right thing. Which is being a good neighbor. The first ingredient: attentiveness.
Yesterday’s bone-crunching migraine really drove home — haha, no pun intended — the message. Just like the 1,000 spikes piercing my skull.
What I needed — a quiet space that would hold me as the migraine passes — was not available. Was taken from me on another’s thoughtlessness. Forgetfulness. Bad neighborliness.
Seek and ye shall find? No. What I sought was healing silence. What I found was a shit swamp cooler that doesn’t shut the fuck up ’cause the neighbor doesn’t shut it off!
So what’d I do? What could I do? I couldn’t go home.
Well, I couldn’t rent a motel room! $ for starters but this weekend is Rodeo Weekend! People from around the country have flooded this little town for the world’s oldest rodeo! It’s the town’s moneymaker of the year. You cannot find a motel room to save your life!
Or grant relief to a migraineur.
So I could do nothing but endure and avoid going home. Kill 5 hours hanging around downtown, walking aimlessly and blindly (the migraine effect) with a jaws of life crushing my little skull.
That walking could last only so long in a small downtown so I switched over to until 10 p.m. closing.
Five hours wasted. Five hours that could’ve and should’ve been spent home in bed. And would’ve been … were James being a good neighbor.
By turning off that motherfucking monstrosity of his swamp cooler. Instead of letting it run ALL THE TIME when it is not needed. 24-7. Every day of the week. Every week of the month and more.
James did not give me my migraine.
However, he gives me reason to hate him as a neighbor.
He gives me reasons to invent stories that’ll end the problem. I won’t share, let’s just say the suspense/crime/mystery genre is my fav for a reason!
He gives me 50 Ways to Disconnect a Cooler. Subversively.
Most of all — most distressing of all — James gives me: Bad Neighborliness.
James, if you’re listening up there:
You’ve been a bad neighbor for more than a month. You’ve done none of what you said you would do: Turn off the cooler when it’s not too hot and when you’re away. You’ve failed and are failing to be a good neighbor.
You can do better. Much better.
I need my home back now.
I need my sanctuary and my space. My solitude and my home as a haven, not a hell.
I need to come home and have it be quiet.
And, as yesterday’s migraine teaches poignantly and powerfully, I need that silence when my head is being ripped apart by a wild animal.
Listen closely James.
The season of inattention and forgetfulness is over. I’ve endured it. I’ve endured it long enough. You’ve had plenty of time and opportunities to do the right thing. You’ve failed.
The inattention. The forgetfulness. The thoughtlessness.
It needs to stop. Now.
You need to do what you said you would do. Turn off the cooler when it’s not too hot and when you are away.
You’re being called upon to consider your neighbors. To step up to the plate. To do what you said you would do. In doing so, you grow. You restore harmony.
James, your swamp cooler score today is 2 wins 30 losses. You can do better. So much better.
Be a good neighbor. Like Nike says, Just Do It.
My migraines and I will be so grateful.