Making a Pig of Ourselves Over Swine Flu

I received a memo at school today alerting me to the germy nature of a school and what to do about it--yet another reminder that the pigs--er, I mean the wolves are at the door. Cold and flu season is upon us. The angst this year is high. I'm preparing by adding a 10 gallon (well, at least 2) of hand sanitizer right next to the stapler and tape on my desk. Everytime I think about it I grab a squirt. I'm also thinking of getting one of those boxes of disposable gloves to put on each and every entrant into my personal space (classroom). Oh, and when I fly to Williamsburg next week don't be surprised to see me suit up like a pre surgery Ben Casey! I am ragging on the kids to keep their sick selves home! And then there's the little question of how to REALLY fortify ourselves from the inside because, face it, short of sealing ourselves in a bubble, we're still going to be susceptible. My campaign includes 5 dried plums a day, 3 almonds, at least 4 fruits, double water consumption, AND I'm also tripling my JuicePlus dosage! Call me excessive, but unless I feel like the antioxidents in me are lined up like little terra cotta warriors I will not sleep! Atten Hut!! But then a part of me thinks that dwelling on the perils of the season will only serve to attract the flu to me. Perhaps my time would be better spent on visualizing myself emerging next spring as a virulent robust survivor. I know one thing--the thoughts of subjecting myself to a flu shot are right up there with lining up for scientific sterility research! I've always thought that would be the perfect avenue for rubbing out entire states of people--through the vaccine, you know. Lest you nark me out here, let me hasten to add that my paranoias center mainly on flu vaccines. Thus I have left myself vulnerable I suppose. But then wouldn't it stand to reason that never having had a flu shot would indicate that my body is virtually teeming with antibodies to fight it off? Well, I should say so!!!! If I could only get a little bitsy case of flu, however, I'd welcome the rest. A sniffle. A cough. Not a lusty one--just a dainty little Jane Austen one that I could muffle in a lace hankie. A well-placed sneeze now and again. I wouldn't complain. I'll take my flu like everyone else--just don't let it wipe out my community. We here in Brrrrrrr Lake are hearty. We are thrivers. We'll fight it off as best we can. May the same be true of all of you.