Babbling green teacher

The Fates have apparently decided to punish me for going on about what a wonderful day I had yesterday. Today was a trial.

It started badly when the alarm went off and my tricky, cunning, LYING brain told me, very convincingly, that another five minutes wouldn't hurt. I believed this for an entire hour. Then I levitated out of bed and went straight into high speed, not slowing down until my second class. This means that my first students of the day have been introduced to a new, entirely baffling, and probably frightening teacher. I was awful. They sat there blankly for ninety minutes while I babbled at them.

My day ended, three only slightly less horrible classes later (less horrible for the students, that is), with a visit to the doctor. Matters had getting worse all afternoon and were fairly hair-raising by the last class, and I told him why.

He was delighted with me. I've done it again. I've got what everybody else is getting.

"YOU HAVE THIS VIRUS!" he bellowed (he always bellows), pointing at his infectious diseases report. "THERE ARE TWO. ONE IS RESPIRATORY AND ONE IS DIGESTIVE. LOOK! EIGHTY-FIVE PEOPLE AROUND HERE ALREADY GOT IT THIS MONTH!"

"Oh," I said, weakly. I felt pathetic. I belched dangerously.

"DON'T DRINK CONCENTRATED FRUIT JUICE!" he added sternly.

"Can I drink tea?" I asked. I didn't really have the energy for it, but felt compelled to go through the usual routine.

"YES! YES! TEA IS GOOD! DRINK TEA!" he said.

He gave me something to stop the nausea and something else to stop the diarrhea, and told me to call in sick tomorrow.

I won't, of course. Tomorrow I have only one class in the afternoon anyway, nearby, so I might as well do it (truncated) rather than go through the hassle of cancelling and all the red tape it would involve for a first day class. That one place is usually good about sick days, but first days are particularly tricky and it's more trouble than it's worth.

Cancelling first day classes at my Thursday/Friday job (my busiest days) would be professional suicide, and I won't do that, either. My boss would never forgive me, and never let me forget it. I would rather endure two days of feeling like crap than a year of him constantly reminding me how much trouble I caused him. (With a bit of luck I'll pass the virus on to him.)

"Does this thing last very long?" I asked the doctor.

"OH NO. NO NO NO!" he replied. "NOT LONG!"

But he has given me three days' worth of medicine. I suppose if the worst comes to the worst I'll be able to get by with taking that and not eating during the day until the weekend.

The last time I had something similar it was LAST days of semester. They are just as tricky to cancel as first days. But at least this time I got to the doctor more quickly, so I'm hoping it won't be quite so devastating.

The medicine seems to be working. I think it's safe to go to bed.