Current libations include tea, tea, and more tea. Sometimes water. Sometimes ginger ale. But mostly tea. I can no longer feel my tongue.

Dear Nasty Virus,

You think you’re funny settling in my chest and nasal cavity as if there weren’t things taking up residence there. Like my lungs. And the snot and boogers that were there already. They told me to tell you something: GET OUT. WE WERE HERE FIRST. I even let my body cackle laugh when the doctor told me last Wednesday that you could probably stick around for up to nine days.

NINE DAYS? Oh, no. We don’t have time for that shit. We have Christmas cookies to make. We have Christmas cookies to eat. We have Santa to play and mojitos to make and lots of new kinds of coffee to try. Nine days? Nah, that ain’t gonna work for me.

But you didn’t listen, did you? You smugly gave your non-commital reply and there was a smirk lingering in the air around me. I have a mind to knock your block off, you fucking contagion.

Did you have to be the kind of virus that increased, instead of suppressed, my appetite? Did you? Was it necessary to make me voraciously hungry and scarf as much cheese as was made in the entire state of Wisconsin during the month of December? Because I don’t find that one bit humorous.

Let me tell you what would be really funny: if you coupled the current maladies you’ve concocted with some lay-her-out-flat cramps. THAT? would be hilarious. Oh, yeah. I’m talking guffaw-worthy. Hopefully, those guffaws would allow me to rapidly and continuously quiver to and fro so that a coughing fit would ensue enabling me to bring up some of this yummy phlegm. Oooohhhhh, pretty.

So here’s what I’m proposing: you get out of my body and let me get back to a normal life that does NOT include showering with Very Festive Pomegranate Body Splash instead of actually getting into the bathtub (with the normal things like water and other substances made from compounds of natural oils and fats with sodium hydroxide) and I won’t call you a “bitchy infective agent” anymore.

Deal?

I’ll tell you what works in a pinch: Bada Beans. It’s a new(ish) product used to flavor coffee that comes in tablet form. Like breath mints. Only for coffee. Since I like syrup flavorings but rarely remember to add it when I’m in a rush, Bada Beans seems perfect. You know all those days I complain about icky, plain school coffee? These make it better. I liked Hazel’s Nutty Hazelnut for a nice flavor infusion. I have two more to try and see how I like them, but for now I’m just keeping the tin in my purse so I have it with me at all times.

I’ve been struggling with what to reveal about this unforeseen charitable event I’ve fallen into, and some of it came after a conversation with my friend Juli after she sent me a check in the mail. I began to wonder all sorts of things about next steps. What do people expect from me after sending in money? I most certainly cannot take pictures of the kids because it’s unethical for me to post photographs of students, especially if they’re minors.

Another issue is whether or not they feel comfortable being photographed not to mention the fact that it would appear that I’m somehow getting something out of taking pictures of them and posting them. Would photographing them seem a gratuitous move?

What if they’re embarrassed receiving gifts from me and a group of people? Even Mallory suggested we show up and give them gifts on their doorstep to which I replied, “I don’t really want the recognition. I don’t need to hear a thank you.”

Then, there is the issue of getting receipts to people which I suggested in the unbelievable discourse of e-mail exchange that’s been going on lately. Many people replied that it wasn’t necessary, that they’re fine with the children getting what they need and don’t require “proof.”

In continuing my conversation with Juli on the phone, it even came up that I could have them write thank you notes and then post them online. In one regard, that could be the “receipt” for people. But forcing them to write notes just so that I could put them online would seem as if I still expected something from them in return. Yet, I’m not in charge of making people feel thankful. I can at least tell you this much: when Tiffany went shopping with my friend Carrie yesterday while I was out sick, she was very appreciative. Carrie made sure to tell me that Tiffany wanted me to know how grateful she was to be getting new clothes.

Karma is some good stuff, you know that? I knew I contacted the perfect person to take her shopping when Carrie e-mailed me to say that she found a $10 gift certificate to JCPenney that would expire this weekend. Then, when she went over the amount by about $20, Carrie kicked in and refused to let me give her more money even though I had more from donations that continue to come in the mail. Last night I got an mesage from Jean that she’s sending me a gift certificate for teacher supplies and I’m handing it right over to Carrie.

Some of things I bought with the money can be seen in a set of flickr pictures here. Other things I bought online from a Target e-card are pictured below, even though they haven’t all been delivered yet. Since I wanted them to have some choice in the matter, each one also got a $50 gift card to Target in case they wanted to purchase gifts for friends and family. Gift cards are wonderful things, aren’t they? The gas cards for Donnell will come in handy, too.
All this buying and wrapping and positive energy really is sustaining me through this nasty bug that’s knocked me on my ass the last few days. It started small and has turned into something quite phenomenal. $127 plus a lotta internet love equals a donation total that requires a comma which will provide for a student fund that will continue. It is my hope that I can highlight a student each month to help with the selling of t-shirts and coffee mugs.

Maybe it’s simple, but while I was home sick these last few days I caught an episode of Mr. Rogers that seemed to get me RIGHT HERE. My head was pounding and I needed a soothing voice while spread out on the couch surrounded by tissues and medicine. He said, “It gives people a really good feeling to share what they have. Especially when the person you’re sharing it with really loves what you give. It’s like…they really love you.”

I’ve never loved a comma so much in my life. Thank you. Merry Christmas.

For Christian:

For Donnell:

For Tiffany: