Crankle – When the back of your ankles sting from sitting hard on the edge of the coffee table while you’re couched and watching Netflix. Known cure: Pillow under the feet, or lay down on the couch and accidentally fall asleep.
Narcoltoe – When only your left pinky toe falls asleep while driving for more than three hours. Known cure: None. No amount of shifting in the driver’s seat or adjusting your leg will prevent this.
The Probably Not a Brain Tumor – The week-long headache you get every 6-8 weeks that, while not debilitating, does make you wonder if perhaps there’s a rogue chunk of cells in your brain that’s about to crush your hypothalamus and kill you. Known cure: Eh, don’t even worry about it. Probably totally NBD.
Tenderdigititis – When you’ve finally taken the time to file your fingernails down to a respectable length so they don’t click on my friggin’ keyboard every time you use it, and now the very tips of your fingers are exposed and feeling things they haven’t felt in weeks and clearly not liking it because they’re tender and sore. Known cure: Wait it out; fingernails grow back.
Athlete’s Pooch – When you’ve been sitting upright at a table eating dinner for about 30 minutes and your skinny jeans have, like, no give. Later, when it’s Pants Off Time, you have a red and slightly tender-to-the-touch line beneath your belly where your pants were trying to hack into your stomach like a machete. Known cure: Unbutton them bitches.
Bitch – Boob itch. Usually following 12+ hours of bra wearing. I dunno, seems pretty self-explanatory. Known cure: None. This is your punishment for eating the forbidden fruit, descendant of Eve.
The Bare Minerouchies – The eye burning and tear production caused by having makeup on for a full day. Known cure: Rub the ever loving SHIT out of your eyes. Rub ’em like you’re trying to pop those suckers right out of their sockets. But probably wash your makeup off first, so your hands don’t end up looking like you were punching bits of coal.
Katie Sisneros Ear – The severe pain you feel behind and around your ear after sleeping on one side for too long, like instead of resting it gingerly on a pillow you’ve been slamming it against Mr. T’s fist all night. Named after likely the first and only person on the planet who can’t manage to even sleep correctly without fucking up her ear, seriously how does that even happen? Known cure: Stop sleeping.
Acute Cardio Stabbynessism – The sudden onslaught of a severe chestular pain at having realized mere moments too late that you definitely, absolutely, without a doubt, most assuredly shouldn’t have sent that text message. Known cure: No longer fear rejection. JK LOL HAHA just give your phone to a friend and have her Wet Willy you every time you try to take it back.
Neverminditis – When you instinctively say “ouch” even though whatever just happened didn’t actually hurt. Known cure: Stop expecting bad things to happen; nobody likes a pessimist.
Phantom LEGO Syndrome – Stepping on something with bare feet and knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it was most definitely a LEGO, even though you haven’t owned LEGOs since you were twelve.* Known cure: Strew LEGOs all over the floor, and then you probably won’t be wrong next time.
Advanced Involuntary Unipolar Internalized Depressive Rage – A sudden malaise brought on by learning via Wikipedia that Jaslene Gonzalez was born on the exact same day as you in 1986 and she won Cycle 8 of America’s Next Top Model. Meanwhile, you haven’t managed to scrub the few remaining flakes of vomit off the wall from that time your ex-boyfriend drunkenly threw up on you ten months ago. Known cure: Win America’s Next Top Model, get more able-stomached boyfriends.
3rd Degree Skittles – The burn on your tongue and the roof of your mouth after having eaten an entire bag of Sour Skittles and vehemently refusing to stop. Known cure: Eat more Sour Skittles, right?
*Ugh, FINE. Fifteen. Geez.