So, as well as adding unnecessary amounts of stress to a life, which I probably make considerably more stressed then it need be, medicine has also seen me become a hypochondriac.

Take for example, my friend and I were talking about a guy who had been in our first year of medicine but had had to drop out because he developed bone cancer. My friend was explaining the situation to me:

ME: So how exactly did he find out he had cancer exactly?
FRIEND: Well supposedly, after a chronic experience with back pain, he finally had an x-ray performed and it turned out he had cancer.
ME: Is it just me, or did your back just start hurting. I swear I have cancer... that would just take the cake for this week.

Speaking of cake, I baked cupcakes yesterday and they are delicious. As my housemate assured me, the icing, which I at first disliked has grown on me and is now strangely addictive. I think it's like that cheese bread at Sizzlers, obviously they add some form of drug to it because nothing that simple could be so addictive.

It's like heroin... disguised as bread. It keeps making me sick, but baby I keep going back for more.
ME (and the bread): Please Sizzlers, replenish your plate for the sixth time. Though I feel bloated and fat, I can not say no.