I am so sick of getting a sore throat, perusing WebMD for a good two hours, only to self-diagnose myself with rabies. Now I’m stuck with the task of trying to talk myself out of this obviously rational thought.
Have you ever been inside my head, WebMD? It’s not fun is it? And yeah… I haven’t figured out why it’s so sticky yet either.
So stop telling me I’m going to die, WebMD! Or that I’m pregnant, which is basically telling me I’m dead, you asshole.
Sadly, this is a true story. I actually thought I had rabies two weeks ago. I woke up after a night of drinking with a weird scratch on my wrist that looked like an animal bit me and it didn’t help when people confirmed this fear.
“That looks like an animal bit you...hard.”
So of course at 2 AM and quite possibly buzzed, I found it completely necessary to Google the symptoms of rabies, which inevitably led me to magical land called WebMD.
Now, was it just a coincidence that I had an ill-fated bite mark on my left wrist? And that I had a terrible sore throat that day, which inevitably got worse as I coughed up my beer at the sight of the symptoms of rabies? AND come on, who isn’t scared shitless by water?!
MY. THOUGHTS. EXACTLY.
Obviously, I didn’t sleep that night. And obviously, now my poor roommate was bestowed with the gift of having to talk me out of the absolutely real rabies diagnoses.
“Matt, tell me I don’t have rabies.”
“You don’t have rabies.”
“Are you sure?”
“So I have rabies?”
“You have rabies.”
I wish all of this wasn’t true. I wish I wasn’t fucking crazy, but sadly this is what happens when crazy ladies are given access to Google.
I can honestly tell you I’ve been freaking out about this rabies “situation” for the past two weeks AND I can tell you that if I suddenly stop posting... it’s because I’ve died from rabies.
In lieu of flowers, please send pizza and cases of Michelob Ultra to St. William of York. She was a sassy bloke and will surely be missed… by her dog, Stella.
So let’s eat and drink until we all vomit, it’s what Natalie would have wanted.