I never denied it, I accepted it immediately. Only a true hypochondriac would insist that she is a hypochondriac. And now, I cannot diagnose myself with anything because I have run out of illnesses! Last week, I could have sworn that I was pregnant. A couple of days ago, my vagina proved me wrong. Besides the fact that I am leaking like a running faucet, I am relieved that my period fancied showing up. Ew, yer gross. Really, I am aware that there is nothing wrong with me, but the mind should never be trusted when it has stopped spinning its wheels. I seriously don't even know what I mean by that. I have run out of things to do. All I really am is a lazy bitch. And this is what happens when boredom meets nostalgia.....