Sunday, February 04, 2007

Warding Off Scurvy

I can't remember if I've blogged about this before, but I'm a germaphobe. When I was a kid, it used to manifest itself in an affectation where I would dust invisible crumbs off my hands after eating. Now, it's a bit less cute; I try not to touch doorknobs, I'll wait three hours to pee if it means that I can use my bathroom at home rather than a public one.

Despite (or arguably because of) these precautions, I find myself with a scratchy throat and an aching body. I intend to give each and every one of my hacking, snorfling students the evil eye tomorrow as I attempt to remember which of them handed me a paper, touched my pens, or breathed in my general direction.

It's 7:30, and I've still got to read the literary theory handout I've given to my students for tomorrow (nothing like Derrida on a NyQuil high). What have I spent my afternoon doing? Planning on curing my sickness through osmosis. I was at the Bath and Body Works this afternoon, ostensibly because I needed shower gel. Yes, I could use the last half inch of crappy Target shower gel that I have, but I'm sick, dammit! I want exciting, fragrant, soap-free shower goodness! Of course, if you go in for the shower gel, you have to check out the hair products. And being as how we're in the middle of an "arctic freeze," I may as well browse the body butter collection. [My epidermis may never recover from the Fluff family excursion to the big city. I'm hesistant to wear jeans nowadays, as the stiffness of the denim rubbing against the scaly sandpaper of my skin may cause combustion. Which, at least, would keep me warm for a few minutes.]

***Tangential Screed: Who comes up with the scents for stuff at B&B Works? More to the point, who likes it?!! Midnight Pomegranate? Exotic Coconut? And, my favorite, Coconut Lime Verbena?!! I feel like they should include a brochure for your hetereosexual mate entitled: "What to do when your woman smells like a fruit cocktail."***

As I left with my bag of scented goodness, it occurred to me that I must have some kind of nutritional deficiency: Lemon shower cream, lemon body creme, and MOP's C conditioner. I'm like some kind of pirate lost at sea, or, as this crazy group of kids tells it, a "cool scurvy dude" (this site is a piece of work, and I mean that in the best possible way!). I guess my body is trying to tell me that I should up my internal intake of ascorbic acid, as well as globbing it on my external appendages.

Take your vitamins, everybody!

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