The headaches never really stopped. I went to see Dr. Flintstone yesterday. His name isn't really Dr. Flintstone, but he has a Yabba-Dabba-Doo vibe about him and his real name is hard to pronounce. It's not meant to be an insulting nickname - I think Fred Flintstone is totally cool.
But anyway, I told Dr. Flintstone all about the headaches that wouldn't stop and the weird migraine meds the creep at urgent care put me on. And Dr. Flintstone just looks at me and asks if I'm been stressed out lately.
"Technically, I'm not supposed to be stressed at all," I say. "I mean, I just graduated from college-"
"Hold it right there," he says. "That's one of the most stressful things you can do in your life!"
"Yeah, I guess it is," I say, nodding in agreement.
"And lemme guess - you're unemployed and don't know what you're doing and can't find a job in this miserable economy?"
"Yeah, something like that."
"That explains everything."
He perscribes some stuff for tension headaches and tells me that the best thing I can do right now is leave the country. He asks what I got my degree in. I always dread telling people with practical careers that I majored in film, but Dr. Flintstone reacted differently than I expected.
"You definitely need to leave the country if you have a film degree!" he says, his Flintstone-esque face glowing with enthusiasm. "There are so many stories out there in the world that aren't being told over here. You need to go experience them and bring them back."
I still had a headache when I left the doctor's office, but I felt slightly better about my life.
Steve came over last night and we talked about going on some grand adventure together. More on that later...