Germ Avoidance…
I’m officially ‘that person’.
‘That person’ who crazily walks around with tissues to open doors and leaves a shower of Lysol in her wake.
Before you harass me about my germaphobic ways, remember I work with the general public. San Diegans are passing around the Swine Flu like a delicious piece of gossip.
I wouldn’t be quite so crazy but Thanksgiving is next week. If I have to spend my four days off in the hospital, I’d rather it be from a gnarly fall off a mountain face that bested me than from a virus that originated in an animal I don’t particularly like – even when served for a Christmas meal.
Plus, as the year ends, we’re all getting low on personal hours and no one can afford a day off. My co-workers spray the sick folks with Lysol like they’d spray a thug with mace. If someone collapses, we call poison control and haz-mat – not 911.
I sneezed this morning and my co-worker nonchalantly hummed Billy Joel’s ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’ while spraying me with an anti-bacterial aerosol like she was disinfecting her toilet. I probably wouldn’t have minded but… all that mist makes my hair frizz.
I need to stay healthy. I need to stay working. I don’t care if I look silly.
It’s a dog eat dog world during flu season.
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