There's a massive public health book above my bed that I stay up waaay too late every night reading. At 800 pages I could totally use it to lift weights with, but instead I just enjoy nerdy adrenaline rushes at 1am. Sleep deprivation vs. muscle. But with chapters like "Lassa, Ebola, and the Developing World's Economic and Social Policies", "Urban Centers of Disease", and "The Interactions of Poverty, Poor Housing, and Social Despair with Disease"...I mean, really, how can you not?
Problem is, for the last two weeks, every day has been a bout with exhaustion and nausea. Not a cool combo. And while this book is fascinating (and probably contributing to the exhaustion), it's not helping my psychological coping mechanisms. The other night I was convinced it was Bolivian hemorrhagic fever, or meningococcal disease...or maybe cancer. After more hypochondriac self-diagnosis, it's probably just a vitamin B deficiency.
But yeah, heads up: if you don't feel so awesome, don't read The Coming Plague.