Back into the Germy Cesspool of Academia

Life on a college campus is a cesspool for many reasons. Ideologically, it's difficult to survive the verbal/social/job threatening bullets if you happen to disagree with the "scholarly" status quo. It can be overwhelming at times. You either sign this petition to get rid of blah-blah-blah in all its political incorrectness or else. When you are crazily outnumbered, you have to remind yourself that most of the academes around you are nothing more than self-important blowhards who, in their numerous publications are doing the verbal equivalent of whacking off like a monkey.

That said, the particular facet of the cesspool on my mind at the moment is more about literal germiness. When the students come back after summer break, they bring with them every sickness known to bipeds. They have traveled the planet, gathered up exotic snot-inducing strains of flu from the tiniest village and its donkey path main street, from the Big European City espresso cups which have never once been washed in hot enough water, and from their shady families of origin in all their dysfunctional glory. Mix these germs with the wildly sickening layers of ooze collected in the corners of dorm showers, and let the rotten little coeds track this stuff all over campus, and you gotcherself a bunch of nose-blowing, hacking, pissed off instructors. Like me.

Normally I can make it to mid or late October before one of the Pus Princes brings his filthy bounty to lay at my adenoids. This year it came early. I got crazy sick Thursday night, and as my throat swelled up like a piece of dry cat food in water, I quickly lost the will to live. I got worse and worse and sicker and sicker. Just for sport, I went to the urgent care place Saturday night, knowing full well they would not give me any drugs because their answer for everything is "It's viral. You just need to wait it out. Take some Tylenol." But this time, after enduring the medieval torture of the stick down the throat, I was given some codeine. Yummy, blessed codeine cough syrup.

When I returned to school yesterday, my brain fully drenched in my magical liquid happiness, my students seemed much more interesting to me. They had intuitive things to say. Like "That kegger was f*cking awesome." and "Old people are too patriotic." I was enamored with them. I couldn't get enough. I took notes.