I feel dreadful.

I think the music is coming from Ron's room, actually. 

I went with him to the liquor store, "made" him get his own booze, sent him home.  Went to Walmart.  Headache got progressively worse. 

Ron called yelling at me; I figured out what had him upset.  I hung up when the shouting started, and turned off my phone.  About 10 minutes later I called him "Are you going to yell at me?  No?  I understand you are worried about ____.  I will help you _____.  " then I hung up. 

One way or the other, he was pretty impaired.  I kept getting worse and called him; told him I would be coming home on the bus.  He said, take a cab, I will pay. 

Alright.  The cab came quickly.  A lovely Nigerian man.  I love Nigerians.  They are so friendly, intelligent, and professional.  Every single one.  Came home, made sure he got a good tip. 

He said the lady before my trip was very rude and shouted at him.  I was glad I made him smile. 

I staggered home, and into bed.  I used the word migraine repeatedly. 

I don't know what Ron heard, but I got to hear loud music and phone calls for a while.  I kept reminding myself of AA "Don't argue with a drunk".  He wouldn't understand even if I could yell at him. 

He's quiet now.  I might try to rest again. 

I baited a couple of mousetraps.  We will see which bait does the trick, Marshmallow creme, or almond butter. 

Oh, I feel dreadful.