It would be difficult, if not impossible, to find the absolute direct path of the plague that has consumed me. It might have been the kindergartner at computer number nine hacking away as if at any moment he might turn inside out. It could have been the fourth grader at computer number seventeen who sneezed and then came to me, hand still holding back the flow of the goo that has begun to creep from between her fingers. It could be that we are in the midst of the cold and flu season and life in an elementary school is full of hazards such as these and by now I should simply accept my fate.
It's not like I don't take precautions. I have a jug of hand sanitizer that I point children to at any an all opportunities for germ warfare. I spend hours each week reminding kids to do the vampire cough, and reminding them that the Mythbusters proved that snot can fly out of your mouth at upwards of thirty-five miles an hour. Impressive and intriguing lessons to be sure, but since many of them are still working on their multiplication facts and how to tie their shoes it's not surprising that some of this stuff slips through the cracks. Or their fingers.
Consequently, I find myself on the edge of a sick day myself, but I know that this too shall pass. In the meantime, I continue to wade through the petri dish that is my job, conscious of the fact that my own bacteria will need to be contained as I make my way through the sniffling and wheezing masses without infecting others. Movies like "Contagion" and "Outbreak" feel more like documentaries to me, because I teach in an elementary school. Please wash your hands after reading this blog.