Frailty thy name is ear

I missed teaching yesterday because I've finally succumbed to the many germs being blown my way by my students. My right ear--it's always my right ear--feels like a cold wet snowball is lodged deeply inside. Then last night, I attractively drooled and nose-dripped all over the pillow. I've had chills off and on and general achiness, as well as the always-desirable head full of cotton. Oh, how I love the changing of the seasons, she whined.

Of course, my current employer has this lovely rule that adjuncts (snarl, hiss, curse) are allowed to miss only one sick day per semester. How convenient. How humane. How worker-friendly. I guess there are those who abuse the "right" to become ill. I'm not one of them. Have they never heard that spreading germs isn't a workplace-friendly concept? Of course, the college loses no money when students are ill and absent. They don't care. And they've got me so segregated away from the "real" teachers that I probably won't infect anyone else. It kind of pisses me off that I'm in a cubicle with no privacy or security (I don't even dare bring my books or coffee pot) while there are those with their own little offices upstairs. One of these people--a dyed blonde who wears miniskirts, patterned tights, and stiletto-heeled boots--is clearly just a master's degree. In what, I don't know. Do they award degrees in Bimbo? I've tried holding a conversation with her, and frankly, there's no there there.

I also find it immensely ironic that I teach two online classes, where I never meet the students face-to-face, yet I would be penalized if I didn't meet my two FtF classes in germ-filled person. I left assignments for these students. I emailed them. They had work to do. All they didn't have was my swollen face to gaze upon.

Will it ever matter how many degrees I earn? Will I ALWAYS be relegated to second-class status?

Okay, I'm grumpy. I'm sick. I'm feeling sorry for myself. It doesn't help that next Tuesday morning is expected to be a rain-snow-freezing mix for my 66-mile drive. At least the time changes Saturday night, so we'll be back on standard time. Maybe it will actually be semi-morning when I leave the house. If it's bad, I may make esteemed spouse drive in with me, even though he'd be stuck all day with nothing to do. Right now, speaking of things to do, I'm going to wash the sheets. Dr. S.