Ever since my stomach started in with its tell-tale protruding, I’ve been experiencing a heightened fear of my own mortality, clinging to handrails and avoiding open sidewalk grates wherever I go.

Maybe my balance is off, what with packing on weight in strange new places. Or maybe I just have more to live for these days?

Or maybe it’s the new “we’re all going to die!” posters that recently went up around the office:

It seems my office job is trying to kill me. (Doesn’t the “Watch Your Step” headline sound menacing?)