(yes I realize my title is grammatically incorrect but it would fit so nicely in the poem)
This is what I should have blogged a few days ago and I apologize.
Colleen will not be blogging for the next few days. She is under the weather and is probably, most definitely dying. This has nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with what others refer to as delusions of hypochondria. Please refer to the following list of ailments and chose the one you think to have the most bearing...
-Skin cancer: She noticed a shoulder zit in the shower last week and it's still there. Then she vaguely remembered a conversation in which someone said that something resembling a pimple above the shoulder is probably cancer and will lead to sudden death due to it's proximity to the brain.
-Aneurysm: She laid in bed for two hours concentrating on the slight pressure in her head and how her family and friends would feel that someone so young would succumb so quickly
-Diabetes: Thus far undiagnosed, but do to her love of all things unhealthy and lack of feeling in her right toe the probability is high.
-Pregnancy: Never mind the iud and prophylactic use, she had a dream she was preggers and it felt really real.
-Heart attack: Today, after a lunch of penne al la vodka and sausage her left arm hurt. This is unlikely though because any hypochondriac worth her weight in paranoia knows that women, more often than not, feel pain in their neck.
So she will be back soon, most likely tomorrow. But for now she will be exercising her heart (aka drinking red wine on the couch)
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