This is the redacted version of an email that I sent out late this afternoon:

Oh. my. God.  I decided to make a last ditch attempt to kill this headache with a massive dose of caffeine.  We ended up at [ ] Cafe (I should NOT have gone local) and I think they gave my mocha (with two shots of espresso) to P.  I looked at my cup after I started to feel queasy (it was all gone by then) and saw “hot chocolate” written on it – on what should have been my soy mocha (so that means they put whipped cream on a soy mocha and placed it in front of P, and handed me the (dairy) hot chocolate – on purpose?!).  So I just drank something that will probably result in my throwing up and my kid got an OD of caffeine.  LOVELY.

I just spent the last two hours listening to her jibber about all sorts of existentialist things (we categorized things that are alive and not alive, among other things), heard a running commentary on the taxonomy of birds, let her do “ring around the rosie” on all of the trees on the east side of [ ] Square, ran her around the Christmas tree in [ ] Square dozens of times, to the amusement of the bocce (?) playing old men (NOT RECOMMENDED WITH MIGRAINE), and walked her back and up all [ ] flights of stairs (IBID).  I think she may be winding down now.  She is staring off into space and giggling.  The walk home was hell.  I think I’m going to throw up now.

It’s 5:30.  I am counting the minutes until she falls asleep.