Come out, Come out.

What maybe you don't understand is that, when I wake up, I don't want you to talk to me.  In fact, when I wake up, I don't want anything.  It's called "bear-hands," and if I reach into the refrigerator, I will knock everything over, and I will grumble something not unlike a bear's roar.

Some mornings I wake up to thoughts:  Play Toto, as soon as possible.

When I come out of a migraine it feels like the smell of a pavement after a rainstorm, but you still can't play basketball because everything is all wet, and you aren't very good at basketball anyway.