Okay, anyone who knows me (you think you know me?) knows I have severe hypochondriac (tic?) tendencies...like, I tend to always think a headache is a tumor, my vitiligo is leprosy, or that my tired eyes are a sign of jaundice and that my kidneys are for sure failing me. It’s really sad.

I can’t exactly pinpoint why I let myself think these things, but I do. And it’s not the kind of thing where it’s a fleeting thought and I’m back to yapping about pay equity again in the next instant. It’s like I’ll sit at home for an hour ruminating on how I should have washed my hands for 30 full seconds before putting the chicken into the oven because now, thanks to me and my carelessness, I have salmonella. And then I’ll go on WebMd and terrify myself with a symptom check.

What I do know is, this isn’t normal. So in order to rid myself of these stupid dwellings, I talk about them. To everyone. I call my mom after work and I’m like, “Hey, I I think my birthmark on my right hand might actually be turning into skin cancer. I can’t really tell, but one of the edges looks like it might be disappearing.” Then I ask my boyfriend the same thing in the same night. To both of their credit, they only roll their eyes after I ask the third time. My boyfriend takes my hand in his and says, “No, honey,” and my mom does the same thing with her voice on the phone. Or gives me the verbal eye-roll with “Oh, Sara!” and does this scoffing thing wih the back of her throat. I have this theory that I developed after reading it in a couple magazines (Psychology Today, Health) that society’s current pressures are so great and the risks so many, that we make up failings in our health, especially when everything is going right. I, personally, think it has more to do with the fact that I watched too many movies where if everything is going right, that is when you get hacked by the guy from Scream.

So I try not to get too happy about everything. Stay on the safe side, you know?

But while I was on the internet this past weekend, chilling on the couch with my cranberry juice and Urinary Tract Infection (it’s okay, I already told everyone in the office about it--no secrets here!) I convinced myself that I definitely also now had a kidney infection. And of course, you know, those are fatal. As soon as I spoke to my mother about this possibility, she asked if my back hurt. Well, now that you mention it...it definitely does! And it did. And then it stopped. Because some part of my brain is a Debby Downer.

Also while I was chilling on the couch, I found some great sites where they claim to hypnotize the hypochondriac right out of you. That sounds like a good call. Unless someone could come up with a pill that cures all diseases so I do not have to worry about dying of any of them--I think that might be my only hope. Or maybe I need a new hobby. All I know is, watching ER makes it way, way worse. So maybe I should take up horse back riding. Or have children. I’d much rather worry about them than myself. But seeing how pregnancy includes a laundry list of things you can’t do that I love to do (don’t drink caffeine or alcohol; don’t eat sushi, or smoked salmon)--um, count me out! Those are like four of my fave things in a nutshell. That’s like a whole day’s worth of activities. Hell, add “Don’t eat burritos” and you’ve convinced me to adopt. Maybe someday we’ll have to hold back from watching movies and reading, too? Sigh. At least we can listen to Mozart. Which, maybe if I listened to a little bit more of that, I would be a more relaxed, normal person. Hmm.