Last night I was fighting a killer migraine, so I took vicoden and went to bed. (Sleep deprivation and work stress. The Mr. has been sick and I haven't slept well in at least 2 weeks. And storm fronts make them worse)
There, of course, were thunderstorms around midnight and Buffy, of course , was askeered. (this is a child who reacts badly to noise. I mean, she sees me pick up the mixer or blender and makes a wimpering sound and runs to he room and closes the door. Every damn time. When Daniel Tiger and his momma make 'banana surprise' or WTF ever, she does the same thing--won't be in the living room for the TV blender. She has a toy drill she got for Christmas which she refuses to touch because it's noisy.)
Daddy, apparently, didn't pass muster for storm comfort so, long story short, around 5 am, I managed to drift off to sleep. When the alarm went off at 6, I called work and said I'd be in late. I slept off the vicoden hangover, found that I'm still in bad shape, but HAVE to come to work.
Came to work (where I'm wearing dark glasses, sipping caffinated beverages and popping tylenol like it's candy. Also, nausea sucks) and was told that 1-the account numbers on all the budget things I did last week are wrong. (feck). and 2-the feckers won't cover my glasses costs under the vision reimbursement because of how it was billed. and 3-tomorrow's event (I'm working a 5 day week this week--math geekery tomorrow

just had workers unable to work. and 4-next week's museum event (which was going to be super awesome, IMO. Body and bacteria for the whole family

presenter is 'busy' and I need to start over from scratch.
*grump*