So I would be king...if the world was crazy

As a professed hypochondriac, even I can't really understand why everyone is so worried about what is essentially the same flu we each get once a year (I know, I know, there are intricacies...but 331 cases out of 6 billion people? There is a much better chance that I will be stuck by lightening! Hm. Note to self: purchase lightening rod.).

But I'm going to roll with it. I like to be organized, so I've helped to create a contingency plan. I'll avoid the subway as much as possible by imbibing enough alcohol (which kills germs!) to make paying for a cab a good idea (swine flu vs. recession?). I'll also do my best to track down this (adorable, yet disgusting) small child. It's the least I can do.

Superhypochondria strikes again!

Ever since I was a small child, I've had a relatively overactive imagination. I used to be exceptionally good at inserting myself into story lines -- during playtime, I seamlessly transitioned from being the 6th Fraggle to the 6th Babysitter in the club (or 8th, or 12th, or how many they ended up with). I spent days exploring the yard as Indiana Jones' long-lost archaeologist daughter or as the youngest agent for CONTROL (in this I often played alone -- I was the only 8 year old I knew who watched Get Smart).

To be honest, this didn't change as I got older. My college friends will not hesitate to tell you that I tried very desperately to learn how to apparate (a la Harry Potter) on cold Central Pennsylvania nights.

But now it's gone too far. I've recently started reading The Stand by Stephen King for a book club. For those of you who didn't know (because I didn't!), this book is about a virus that wipes out over 99% of the human population. It begins with flu-like symptoms. I started this book 2 days ago, and today at work, I started feeling feverish. A few moments ago, I was fighting off sniffles. If the entire population of the United States has been infected by a deadly virus in the next few days, I swear that I'm never reading another Stephen King book again.

They Panic! They Panic!

Because our apartment remains intent to give us some sort communicable disease (I'm thinking of starting a blog that exclusively discusses hypochondria), my roommate Hailey and I are now not-so-patiently waiting for the Emergency 24 hour plumber. Hailey is currently singing a song about Leprosy. It's going to be a long night. Especially since our super has decided to tell our landlord that we were overreacting (panic!!!) as water gushed out of our sink and through our walls into our rooms. Needless to say, I'm not in the world's best mood.

But speaking of the world's best (worst transition ever), I'm entertaining myself by watching the late-night Olympics (yeah for 12 hour delays!). The more I watch this spectacle from Beijing, I have to wonder when the Olympics lost so much of its luster. Maybe it's because the evaporating water from my floor is devouring my brain with flesh-eating disease, but there is just something...missing this year.

Some highlights:

1. Records don't mean anything. I remember when breaking a world or Olympic record was cause for amazement. Now if Michael Phelps DOESN'T break a world record he's considered a failure.

2. There is no longer perfection. I still get chills when I watch Nadia's first perfect 10. Somehow Nastia Luikin's 16.9 just doesn't compare.

3. Questionable morals. This is the one that blows my mind. China has done NOTHING to make themselves look better on the world stage during these Olympics. In fact, in the first week of competition they have proven that a 7 year old can be "not cute enough" to perform at the opening ceremonies, but that same 7 year old is certainly old enough to win a gold medal in women's gymnastics. And as long as I'm pushing unsubstantiated rumors, I'm pretty sure that they shortened the pool and greased the men's still rings as well.* Seriously though, did we honestly think that holding the Olympics in a country with such questionable ideas about human rights would give them a reason to change their ways? Can we next look forward to Khartoum 2020?

Now I'm ranting and I still don't have a plumber. And, by the way, I now definitely have cholera.


*Libel! Libel!

Love in the time of Cholera

This story is in no way about love. It's all about how I'm about to get cholera. The title was the best I could do under these circumstances. It was either that or "If you had the choice of being the top scientist in your field or having cholera, which would you choose?"

I returned home this evening to find not one but both of my bathrooms completely flooded with, um, not exactly water. I've only lived in this apartment for two weeks, so I don't take this as a particularly good sign. Our super did come very quickly to clean the mess, so at least I am thankful for that.

Now, I wouldn't exactly call myself a hypochondriac, but that is because I would call myself a CRAZY hypochondriac. So, of course thoughts of the bubonic plague and diphtheria ran through my head, mostly because I had no idea what causes these diseases. Apparently I am relatively safe from them. My biggest concern is Cholera.

It's not even like Cholera has been confined to third world countries. According to Wiki (hey, its better than CNN), there have been recent cases in rural England and the mid-western region of the US. Cholera is, like, totally the new black.

So I'm not going to freak out, because I realize that the chances are very thin that I will actually contract Cholera. But from now on, I'm going to stay away from the Internet. We don't need a repeat of the time WebMD told me I had prostate cancer.