Nice bit of Nashery. Here is how *I* feel when afflicted:

I wakened on my hot, hard bed;

Upon the pillow lay my head;

Beneath the pillow I could hear

My little watch was ticking clear.

I thought the throbbing of it went

Like my continual discontent;

I thought it said in every tick:

I am so sick, so sick, so sick:

O death, come quick, come quick, come quick,

Come quick, come quick, come quick, come quick…

(Frances Cornford)