Having just spent most of the last 24 hours with one, I can confirm that migraines are hideous.
And the weekend started so well - a gathering of friends for a sausage BBQ on a Northumberland beach in the blazing sunshine (although in typical Bank Holiday Weekend fashion the weather soon degenerated into freak hail showers and rain) followed by lots of ice cream at the delectable Cresswell Ices.
But by that point the headache had set in. Just behind my right eye, where it always lives, with the accompanying feeling of nausea and general nastiness. There's only one cure - lots of paracetemol/codeine/migraleve, one of those ridiculous cooling gel packs that sticks on your forehead, and lying flat in bed.
Woke up this morning and felt like death warmed up. Which continued for most of the day, despite regular ingestion of pills and cups of tea (lemon and ginger).
I hate it when the day's a washout. Call me a neurotic overachiever, but I like to feel that I've actually done something by the end of the day. In fact I'm completely rubbish at chilling out, whether enforced or otherwise. I'm one of those people who gets through 47 novels a week on holiday, visits all the sights and then still complains that they're bored. If you left me on a beach for 10 days with nothing to read I'd probably self-combust or produce a 500-page plan on How To Take Over The World.