I've been a little under the weather lately. I'm suffering from a classic case of privileged amnesia. Basically, I forget just how spoiled I am. Usually chicken soup is a good solution, but in extreme cases like mine the broth is cold and unsatisfying. Bed rest isn't much help either. The privileged amnesiac is sensitive to bed sores and prone to late night pillow fluffing and sleeping on an arm. Drinking plenty of liquids can help; however, alcohol is not recommended. The best prescription is a strong dose of humble reflection, but I like to throw in a little sarcasm and public self ridicule. My petty complaints could all be worse. That pain in my stomach (literal, not figural) could have been appendicitis, but it's probably just gas. My two hour drive to Portland could have been a two hour walk for water. My bad hair cut could have been a freak chainsaw accident. My speeding ticket could have been a loss in the Iowa Caucus. A little perspective confirms that my snivels are slim in comparison to real complaints. After all, I still have my head. And, despite the haircut, I'm not Hillary Clinton.