Memories for Matinees

There's a song by Neko Case called "South Tacoma Way" that I love so much but can barely stand to listen to because it makes me weep for no reason at all.  Since I've been in a maudlin state for a few days, I thought I should work on jigsaw puzzles of European landmarks in pajamas (mind you, the ~same~ ones all week...) and listen to Neko until I couldn't cry any longer.  The human emotional system is inexplicable.

My heart keeps skipping beats, for real, and I'm growing quite concerned.  So obsessed am I that I have been taking my pulse nearly every hour just so I can feel the sludgy missed beat via the artery on my neck.  I've consulted Jamison, my sister, and countless internet sites, and according to all sources, this is nothing to worry about and is likely the result of the unholy amounts of coffee I consume in a day coupled with my prescription meds.  90% of heart arrhythmias are virtually harmless, and often no treatment is needed.  I will consult my doctor first thing tomorrow morning.  Does this put my mind at ease in any way, shape, or form?  Not a chance.  I've been convinced all day that my heart is faulty and I'm going to die of some wretched heart disease just after I spend the next several years in some kind of excruciating pain, hopped up on a million drugs, installed with a pacemaker, and of course all of this will occur only after I've been forbidden to do all things I enjoy and get fat again and die alone one of those horrible deaths where concerned neighbors phone the paramedics who find you rotting and half consumed by your own dog.

And this is me sans coffee...