flying through clouds of uncertainty on wings of existential dread
Not entirely coincidentally, I’m theoretically over my stupid damn cold, but the occasional cough and head full of mucous are going nowhere. You are not welcome here, snot fairy. Take your gooey dripping wand back where it came from immediately.
(I’m being colourful, not hallucinating. Stop dialing 911.)
Oh, and in the continuing saga of my hilarious bouts of hypochondria, I was a little freaked out because I was having burning needle-y pain across my upper back when I had a bad coughing fit. I spent a day at work alternately deciding I had lupus or osteosarcoma (damn it, ‘The Fault in Our Stars’) or something, and reminding myself that I do have hypochondriac tendencies and it was clearly nothing. Then I mentioned it in a totally calm not freaking out at all way to my mom on the phone, and she instantly said, ‘Oh. You probably strained a muscle coughing.’
Guess who was right? (Hint: it’s never lupus. Or anything else I think it is.)