In my continued attempts to keep up the impression I lead a functional adult life, I am beginning to worry about my health, as we are obliged to do once we reach a certain age. It seems to be a grown up thing to do, kind of like purchasing breakdown cover, having alcohol in the house that isn't necessarily for immediate consumption and spending significant amounts of money on stuff like couches rather than stuff like fortnights in Vegas.
I don’t tend to be very good at these kinds of things (which I believe are known as "sensible choices") and I would happily sit on a cardboard box for the rest of time in return for two weeks in Vegas. I'm always the person who finds themselves in the panic of another nameless crisis, shooting some holier-than-thou individual a frenzied, infuriated look in reply to unhelpful questions like, "Don’t you have insurance?" and, "Didn't you back-up?". But worrying about a non-existent health issue fabricated from paranoia and creativity, then self-diagnosing a spectrum of diseases using Google? Step aside, I've got this.
