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I received a letter in the mail yesterday from the Utah Department of Health. This shouldn’t be a huge deal, but with my imagination and anxiety it was.

I walked into the house and sat on my couch just staring at the ominous white envelope, imagining the very worst. I couldn’t bring myself to open it. Once that letter was open whatever bad news it had to offer would be real.

Was this about the flu shot I stole last year? Some co-workers and I went to the offices next to ours and pretended to be employees, when they were offering flu shots free. I talked myself out of thinking it was wrong when my very Mormon friend, Kirk, didn’t seem bothered by it. If there was a place in Mormon heaven for him, then surely I wasn’t going to end up in hell over this one little thing.

There was that sketchy boyfriend with all the tattoos from my early 20s. With that much body art it’s entirely possible he contracted some fatal disease from a tainted needle. I haven’t heard from him in years—he could be dead for all I knew. At this point I felt numb all over.

Numb extremities are never a good sign. After a quick online consult with WebMD I decided I was dying. Diabetes was the number one search result. My father is a diabetic, and somehow the health department was able to diagnose me before any doctor had. I jumped up and ran into the kitchen. I was bound and determined to eat every last drop of sugar in my apartment before finding out I was indeed a diabetic, and that I was forever banned from sugar.

One zillion calories later I knew it had to be done. Whatever was inside that envelope was something I could deal with. Something I had to deal with. I was ready.

I opened the envelope and found a copy of my birth certificate. That’s riiii-ght, I ordered it online last weekend when I couldn’t find the original.

Now, I have a birth certificate, enough calories to double the size of my ass, and lastly an understanding that while the health department can’t diagnose your insanity, they can certainly be the cause of it.

I don’t have the best eating habits. This we reinforced over the weekend by Alaska Pat, my soon-to-be personal trainer. It’s not that I don’t eat healthy, because typically I do, it’s that I don’t eat regular meals. I blame my schedule, but truthfully it just seems like a hassle more often than not. Which is why Wheat Chex and vanilla soy milk were invented… to sustain me.

This morning in an attempt to eat at least three meals a day, I had a cup of coffee with soy milk. Soy milk counts as a real meal, right? Then, as I ran out the door, I grabbed one of my Dannon Light & Fit-Carb & Sugar Control Smoothies to drink for lunch. Since I’m not in the office very many hours as is, I rarely take a lunch.

Just now, as I was about to drink said smoothie, I noticed the expiration date was Nov 14. In my quest for good health, I choose to ignore the fact and drink it anyway. Now, I’m just sitting around waiting to die wondering how important forcing yourself to eat really is.

i’m not just losing my mind, i’m losing my legs too! okay, not my actual legs but i’m losing the feeling in them. the backs of my legs started going numb last month. i chalked it up to bad circulation and vowed to get in shape. (it’s time to start thinking about summer clothes.) i bought an elliptical and have worked out every day for the last three weeks. i’m only doing 5-7 miles a day, i’m pathetically out of shape. but, the numbness didn’t go away. in fact the opposite happened… my legs got bigger so there was more leg surface to go numb. lame!

after trying to self-diagnosis on webmd, i went to see the doctor. my dad is diabetic and numb legs is one of the symptoms. needless to say at this point i had totally freaked myself out. i couldn’t give up my addiction to ice cream–i’d rather die!

when the doc was testing my legs for feeling, he applied warmth, then cold–something soft, and then pressure. if i didn’t know better i’d have thought he was trying to woo my legs. lastly, he told me to turn my head so i couldn’t see what he was doing, and to only say something if i felt anything. i was positive he was back there dry-humping my leg, but as it turns out he was just running a sharp object across them and didn’t want me to see it and imagine pain. who me??

all my tests were fine and my legs are still dry-hump virgins.