I don't have plaid pyjama bottoms

The HEADACHE that struck me this afternoon was one of the worst in recent memory.
My head throbbed. I felt nauseated.
Taking pain medication didn't help. Curling up in the fetal position didn't help.
Listening to the SAN FRANCISCO GIANTS on the radio didn't help (at least the G-Men beat the Cubs, 5-1).
Finally, I decided to soak in a HOT BATH.
Before I got in, though, I wanted to find my PLAID PYJAMA BOTTOMS, because tonight is going to be C-C-C-OLD.
I rummaged through drawers.
I cleared stuff off shelves.
I winced in the PIERCING PAIN of my headache.
"Where are my plaid pyjama bottoms?"
I didn't know where else to look. Also, my head hurt so badly, I wanted to detach it and drop it from the bedroom window.
Screw it.
I'll just take a hot bath and figure out what to do after that.
I lowered myself into the steaming water with a sigh...
"I don't have plaid pyjama bottoms," I said, the realization in the bathtub coinciding with the sudden dissipation of my headache. "They're BLACK, you dork!"
There they were. Sitting in the drawer that I had rummaged through before.
My black pyjama bottoms.
Sigh...
I feel much better now.
Less intelligent, but better.