My allergies are so bad, that I’m sure they’re not allergies, but actually some horrible, rare, fatal virus that is in the process of seroconverting right at this very moment inside my sinuses, where it will take root and rot my head from the inside out. And think of how much less pretty I’ll be with no head! So much less pretty. It will be a shame, I tell you.
Also, in other hypochondrical news, I need to find an all new set of doctors in the New York area, so that I can call them on an hourly basis and make them tell me that I’m really OK, that everyone gets colds now and again and its probably not the heeeev, and that actually, unlike everyone else, I’m never ever going to die, and isn’t that amazing? (Also awful, were it true. Actually, what I want is a speedy and painless heart attack when I’m 112 years old.)
You might think it’s easy being this crazy, but it’s not. For example, yesterday, I updated my to-do list. Here’s what it said:
1) Change credit card to 0% card.
2) Make appointment for yearly physical.
3) Groceries: Buy cheese, sour cream, etc.
4) Refill Xanax.
5) Organize bills, statements, and so on.
6) Get shrink. Ask about shock treatments.
7) Hang pictures.
I have this weird feeling that this isn’t what most people’s to-do lists look like.