Confession.

My insurance is to blame for my hypochondriac ways. I can go to the doctor's for $6.93. I told my doctor that I see him so much that I'm going to start bringing in wine since I feel as though we're dating. He told me that would be fine. And that I am a hypochondriac. We have an honest, open relationship. And they have the little, individually wrapped tictacs at the receptionist desk. Screw an apple a day. I can go anytime I want for under $7. Cheap date.