Sick, a sonata in three movements

Not sure why, but my lungs are unhappy with today.  I have several theories, running from the mundane (coconut? crab?) to the sinister (bug spray in the house for the first time in months? an innate inability to sustain any good feeling for too long?) to the extreme (lung cancer?! sarcoidosis?!?) but the upshot is I haven't done anything overtly Wrong according to my girl-in-the-bubble script.  Still, my lungs have been tightening down over the course of the day like the fists of a republican contemplating Obama's second term.  A bit oddly, when I went for a run it largely cleared up, which was supagreat, but unfortunately I can't keep up 4.2mph all night so eventually I did come home.  At which point the union steward in my lungs declared "break's over!" and it's back to the picket line staged between oxygen and my brain.  If only I could make out what they're chanting!  Blah.