Being a natural born pesimist and hypochondriac, you can imagine I mostly hate travelling because I picture in my head every possible scenario of my death before I start any trip. I’m particularly good at depicting all sorts of ridiculous deaths, and I’m almost convinced that I might be eligible one day for a Darwin Award.
Today I’ve happened to read that a sense of impending doom can actually point at some serious health problem. Oh gosh, there we go again. Now I’ll have to go to the doctor to make sure I don’t have any deadly condition.
In the meantime, I’ll rethink again everything I want to include in my last will and testament, which I am to sign before a notary public later this year. I also would like to remind you, my friends, that I once filed a ‘manifestación anticipada de voluntad’ with the Canarian Health Service.
Last but not least, I’ll feed my sense of doom with some excellent music by White Lies.
InTerCleta: agente en bicicleta 