Arre, the migraine day itself is all sparkly lines and this strange disconnect, like your brain’s TV has bad antenna. But the *next* day? They say you should rest, but my brain feels like a thakela printer — the ink is low, everything runs slow and smudged. I have to mix colours and operate the machine anyway, because if the wedding card orders get delayed, Papa loses a customer. So for me, the 'day after' just gets folded into the blur of work.
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