Adult Onset...Everything

I've always been a weeee bit of a hypochondriac. The latest thing I have diagnosed myself with is adult onset ADHD. Yes, that is correct. I used to sit through class just fine. College, minus a few drab classes, kept my attention quite well. But, as a supposed grown-up, this is me now:

Read this e-mail. Oh, look at the giant "Ryan's Buffet" sign that you are eye-level with up here. Enter something into a spreadsheet. There's birds! There's birds on top of the Ryan's sign! Go pick up the mail. I wonder if they've built nests up there? What was I going to get? Right. The mail. Starbursts-- there's Skittles and Starbursts on my desk. I wonder if the calories are written on them. The birds are fighting now. Do I smell coffee? 

This is on a good day. I have had to start running rubberbands through my fingers so I don't jump out of my seat. 

I must just be a late bloomer. (Ask my junior high training bras that could now only function as a slingshot). Here are some other usually youthful diseases I have recently acquired:

Frequentobanoitis: In easier terms, I have to go to the bathroom every 10 minutes. In the car. In a plane. On a train. It doesn't matter. I better have constant toilet access. I missed the opportunity when you were able to announce you had to pee and people cheered and brought the portable toilet to you. Now you just get dirty looks when you bring a soda out from the gas station.

Hangrial Outbursts: Babies and children cry when they are hungry and the low, scary Mom voice rumbles, "Is mah baby hungry? Yes, he is. Yes, he is." Twenty years later and here I am suffering from an actual condition: hangry. Contrary to commercial exaggeration, I actually do turn into Roseanne Barr when I need nourishment. It has gotten worse with time. It's harder to suffer with at this age because you can't begin a bawl fest at a business lunch or bite the lady who took the last piece of fried chicken at the potluck.

Sonic Obsessive Disorder: I remember the family effort of weening my youngest brother off his bottle. My job, as big sis, was to read an illustrated book entitled, "Bye Bye Bottle." Didn't work. The kid still wouldn't let go of that thing. I presently need to ween from the Route 44 Styrofoam bottle that has become a little bit of an addiction. I had a bad day. I need Sonic. It's hot outside. That calls for Sonic. My birthday is in 6 months. Sonic celebration.

Sleptomania: When I was a kid, I'm sure I didn't sleep as much as my parents would have preferred. But now, many years later, I can't stay awake. I went to tan today and fell slobber-time asleep. I woke up wondering how long I had been in there. I'll take a nap, sort of wake-up and think, "Ehh, let's just rock this until morning. Peace out." 

Social Annoyance Disease: Most people get this as a child, especially when you have a unique feature like red hair or curly hair that people want to touch all the time without your permission. But, being a cute but average kid, I suppose I was spared from thinking adults were crazy. But now. Oh, sweet Georgia, now. I left Wal-Mart the other day and was in a super bad mood. Justin goes, "What happened to you?" All I had to say was, "I just left Wal-Mart." 

And that's all he had to know. 

I had to give a grown man my best staredown when he was asking an Amish family why they didn't just "go back to Pennsylvania." My future kids better live in fear of the look that shut that man's trap. See? I'm not even in public and I'm making myself annoyed. It's severe, people. And I heard it gets worse the longer you live. 

So if you didn't believe the whole hypochondria thing before, you sure do now. Just pray for a full and fast recovery. I better sign off for now. I think I'm coming down with something.