I opened the door to the business and there was the portly woman standing guard at the door. I was a little taken back, but okay. She wore all white but was not an angel by any means. The sour look on her face and the hulking mole that looked like it would eat her left nostril confirmed that.

"Stop there and open your mouth, please," she said in a nasally voice.

"Huh? What?" was my somewhat genuis reply.

"You can not proceed past this point unless I measure you."

"Excuse me? You wanna do what?"

"Check your temperature. No one is allowed in unless I have taken their temperature."

"Gotcha."

So she jabbed the long, slender (settle down boys) protrusion under my tongue and I had to stand there feeling like a kid caught lifting some candy outta the cookie jar. The little machine in her hand beeped signifying my temp. had been taken. She looked disaprovingly at the read out. I knew it would be bad.

She glared at me, and I smiled as best as I could. Then she reached into a box on a stool near her and whipped out a putrid yellow surgical face mask.Which when worn made me feel like someone was strangling me.

"101. You must wear this in the building at all times. You are contagious."

I felt like I was ostracized and singled out because I was a little sick. And yes, I am actually a lot sick, full blown pigginess. But, this whole scene bothered me because as a teacher I am exposed to a variety of germs and diseases on a daily and hourly basis. I don't shove a surgical mask in my kids' faces when they sneeze on me. Which they do. Nor do I make them sit in a different part of the room when they cough all over each other, which they do.

oh, and H1N1 really bites ass, if you were wondering.