The exact same symptoms as that disease your aunt keeps posting about on Facebook.
Overwhelming urge to diagnose yourself with WebMD.
Sudden preoccupation with toxins, cleansing, radio waves, GMOs, brain-controlling parasites secretly transmitted by cats, pesticides, oxidants, anti-oxidants, double plus good oxidants.
The exact same symptoms as that disease you learned about when you were 5 and still have a visceral fear of contracting.
Has that lump always been there? Is that a new lump? How lumpy is the human body supposed to be, as a general rule? This lump is kind of squishy, is that a normal thing, lump-wise?
Fear of mortality.
The nagging worry that you absolutely could have left the oven on, but now you are halfway across town at a party, and you won’t know if your apartment has burned down and all your possessions have been destroyed until you bus all the way back home, so if your home is a smoldering pile of ashes there’s nothing you could do about it anyway.
Malaise whenever you have to hang out with that one friend’s annoying boyfriend, who you don’t really like but you would never hurt her feelings by suggesting that she has a lousy taste in men.