My head is pounding.

I’ve gone through two boxes of Kleenex in two days.

I’m popping chewable Vitamin C pills like they’re peanut M&M’s.

My throat is so scratchy that I sound like Brenda Vaccaro’s chain-smoking brother.

It’s only my second week on the new job, and I’m pretty sure I have SARS.

It would appear that after four months of near isolation, spent socializing with no one except my two cats, my two friends, and my mailman, my body’s tolerance for foreign germs has dangerously plummeted.

Now, as I squeeze into overcrowded train cars each day, breathing stale air, clutching damp poles, and sitting on seats that are the equivalent of vinyl Petri dishes, my immune system is being overwhelmed. I thought I was being careful. I wash my hands about fifteen times a day. I sterilized my new phone and keyboard at work before using them. I make people use Purell before I allow them to shake my hand. Yet still, here I sit, hopped up on Theraflu and Echinacea.

When I had to cancel my dinner plans with Natasha last night due to the onset of double vision, she got all Susan Powter on my ass: “Of course you’re sick! You’re weak because you don’t exercise! You need to get out more! You don’t see Seamus and me getting sick! We run 5K’s! We drink Vitamin Water! You’re like the boy in the bubble! Stop the insanity!”

At first, I was offended by her mockery of my malaise. But then I started to think about what she was trying to tell me. Sure it was tough love, but she was trying to help me out. She really did make a good point. Maybe I did need to take charge of my life and stop the insanity.

So I’m currently researching this whole “bubble” suggestion that Nat gave me. Why not a bubble? I recall seeing nothing in the dress code policy prohibiting giant plastic germ suits. I think as long as I don’t wear cutoff shorts or open toed sandals underneath it, I should be just fine.

In fact, through the magic of Google, I just found out that Land’s End now makes a business casual giant plastic germ suit (currently available in Melon, Nude, and Pewter), which I plan on ordering as soon as I can find my credit card underneath this colossal pile of Kleenex. I just hope it gets here before flu season.

Filed under: J.O.B. on October 1st, 2004