Hello, Failure

Of all the enemies of literature, success is the most insidious

Monday, December 15, 2003

Failure of the Day: The Contagious World

I’m sick. It’s almost certainly my own fault after spending all last week gloating about how I never get colds and flu anymore since I have so little interaction with those festering tubes of contagion, Other People. I have Telecommuter Immunity. When I hear people say, “I have that flu that’s going around,” I go, “Really? I hadn’t heard.”

But that’s the thing, too; other people are sometimes funny and entertaining and sometimes they do cool junk like invite me to their houses. Of course, there are also the variety of Other People who cram themselves into shopping centers and restaurants and places like that, and for Pete's sake, it's 10 days before xmas, don't they know better than to stay away from malls? I mean, what's the matter with people? And there’s so damn many of them, those Other People. My point is this: one of them gave me their cold.

And even though there’s all kind of The Stand-like coolness about the killer flu going around right now and even though I had what for me at least is a fairly unique experience of noticing the moment when at first I didn’t have a cold, and then all of a sudden I did have a cold, and even though I take my liberties where I can and stomp around the public areas of my apartment building in pajamas and a scarf with my hair sticking out of my head at obtuse angles hoping to run into one of the 5 year olds who live here so as to foster a reputation as the scary crazy lady whom they must try their best to be very, very quiet around—and let’s face it, how much more fun could that be?—I’m still a bit grumpy about having a cold. Damn inconvenient is the thing.


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