My tolerance for people has never been particularly high. Once, while my three year old self was trying to reach a toy off a store rack, some stranger told me to “hold” my “horses.” I was appalled. Who was this woman? And what gave her the right to chastise me? Why was it so hard for people to mind their own business? Didn’t she have any manners?
“I do not have any horses,” I informed the uncouth stranger. And, with a display of my tongue and a cataloging of the event in my memory, I stormed off.
Twenty-five years later, the situation between me and other people has only worsened.
I know they say daycares are bastions of germs, but I think daycares have nothing on corporate office buildings. You know why? When kids are sick at daycare, the teachers send. them. home. They have rules and regulations about how healthy you must be to stay at daycare. I know, because every time G so much as sniffles, my cell phone rings. But offices? Offices have no such rules.
Last week, the woman next to me started coughing. A lot. Then she started complaining about how awful she felt on every phone call she had. Next came the tissues and the stomach-turning sound effects. Did she go home (or to a quarantine)? No, she did not. She stayed at her desk and shared her germs with me.
And then Monday night, it hit. The chills, the sweats, the delirium. I was sick. I was so sick that I stayed home from work for two days. Because that’s what sick people do. And while I rested, I plotted my revenge. (Because that’s what intolerant, crazy people do.)
Upon returning to work today, I was surprised to find the petri dish woman both here and STILL sick. In fact, sicker than ever. What does it take to make her stay home? Bubonic plague?
I’m livid. She is the reason I spent the past two days in bed, dreaming about ripping my own throat out to stop the pain. She is the reason that I think G is getting sick, just three days before his birthday party.
But I can’t say anything to her. It’s just not civilized to bitch someone out in a workplace. Instead, I will do the professional thing and complain about her on the Internet.
And possibly spray her down with Lysol. Completely by accident.