Monday, February 10, 2014

This Is Why We Can't Have Mice Things

First day back at Newmentia since my unplanned nine-day weekend...and the going was rough.

First cat out of the bag, I went to change that one little grade by five points that had resulted in a virus on my home computer. My gradebook program opened as normal. I put in the five points. Then POOF! Gradebook was gone. Gone. Gone with the best intentions of Mrs. Hillbilly Mom, who could have let that grade stand, but gave the benefit of the doubt to the evidence of a faint remnant left under an erasure mark.

I tried to open that gradebook program again. It pretended to run through the opening process. But no gradebook appeared. I called a building computer whisperer. She came to take a look just as I was starting my lesson. I know this may be hard to fathom...but the students didn't mind! I really appreciate the CWhisperer devoting her time to my cause. But the horrifying specter that was to come nearly brought me to my knees.

CWhisperer tapped and yapped. "Why do you have this screen resolution? Do you WANT it this way? Have you always had it this way? That's not the problem. Just wondering. I can't seem to fix it. I'm going to have to put in a call. There's a chance that somebody might access your computer remotely. Is that okay? Will it interfere with your lesson?" I assured her that I could work around any interruption of service. And then it happened.


That is not taught at school these days, you know. You cough into your elbow. But not CWhisperer. She cupped those meathooks around her beak and let fly with the phlegm from deep inside her core. Oh, that's not the horrifying part. No. She didn't just cough and exit my room to put in that phone call. She didn't use the Germ-X I had conveniently set on my mission control counter. She didn't even wipe those clappers on the knees of her slacks.


I nearly fainted. How was I supposed to go on after such a vision? I could barely hear what CWhisperer said next through the ringing in my ears as blood rushed to my brain to help allay the shock. CWisperer waltzed out to continue helping me by making that phone call. I sat down and tried to regain the breath that was knocked out of me. Oh, dear. I needed to grab the mouse and start my textbook reading CD to introduce the lesson. Thirty-four eyes blinked at me from the owl-swiveled heads of seventeen students. I touched it. The contaminated mouse. Got my lesson started.

As the textbook reader spoke of temperature and thermal energy and heat, I grabbed my giant Germ-X and squooshed a pile of it into my hand. Just before it liquified, I slathered it over mousy. Twice. Then I wrung my hands with Germ-X lubrication.

Whew! Crisis narrowly avoided. I think. Oh, and my gradebook program was restored within the hour. I hope neither one of us succumbs to a nasty bug.


knancy said...

Just think about what you track in on your shoes if you don't take them off at the front door! Tracking in all the crappy germs you walked over all day! Then you track them into your house and when you take your shoes off you track them onto your bare feet and into your bed and sleep with them! Germs from vomiting drunks, urinating men, spitting teenagers, etc. I am so agoraphobic now.

Sioux said...

Maybe you need to Saran-wrap mousy for occasions like this...then, as soon as they're finished, you can have the plastic wrap surgically removed, and no germs, no foul.

Hillbilly Mom said...

NOT ME! I take off my shoes as soon as I enter my Mansion. The socks stay on. Then I slip into my comfy Crocs. At bedtime, the Crocs and socks come off. The only crappy germs I sleep with are those hauled in on the stubby feet of Farmer H. Which is sickening enough...

Well, Madam, I see that you are now moonlighting as a Saran wrap salesmadam. My Germ-X sponsor scoffs at your attempts.

Kathy's Klothesline said...

Maybe she is just plagued with allergies and wasn't actually sick. I haven't had a cold in 5 years or more. I attribute it to my isolation. I firmly believe the dirtiest thing in the world is currency. During pool season when I handle money, I also help clean the pool and think all the chlorine helps.

Hillbilly Mom said...

With the deep chest rumble, I'm inclined to disagree. I suppose it's possible, in a Pollyanna kind of world, that she was not spreading the bird/swine/Spanish/Hong Kong/Captain Trips flu virus.

If only it was pool season, I would have driven her to your kampground and tossed her in (paying the fee for a day swimmer, of course) and then held her under for a good five minutes with the end of a skimmer. Can't be too careful these days.