Tuesday, 30 November 2010

This morning I had a nose-bleed, which I haven't experienced since I was a wee nipper, so naturally I freaked out and told my girlfriend that I thought I was coming down with brain cancer or something.

She reassured me that it's probably just stress related, and she might be right; every time I open Pages and look at the essay I'm supposed to be writing my mind does this weird thing that makes me feel like I'm trapped in a small box with Piers Morgan, and he's swallowed the key to make sure neither of us ever escape. So instead I'll write on here, it's easier than critiquing consumerism in late 20th Century American literature.

The thing is though...she might be wrong, maybe I'm having a brain aneurysm? I don't have any other symptoms but perhaps it's just a slow developing aneurysm? Do they even happen?

I think I just need to face facts and realise that I'm a colossal hypochondriac - any tiny ailment that strikes makes me think that I've got cancer immediately; sore in my mouth? probably cancer. Pain in my back? also, probably cancer. If I ever win the lottery or get a real job and end up having a huge disposable income I'm going to start a clinic for people like me to go and get full body cancer checks & blood tests, and employ motherly looking women in nurse outfits (not in a sexual way before this gets all Freudian) to reassure patients that they'll be absolutely fine.

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