Germaphobe?

I never really considered myself a full-on germaphobe. And maybe in my youth I wasn’t, but as I age (gracefully), germs seem to be creeping up on my psyche.

In the beginning, I think I started to be wary of  fairly normal things; during my first pregnancy it was raw chicken that could harbor salmonella, having sick kids introduced me to medical waiting rooms with people coughing and sneezing in my vicinity (or on US Weekly magazines that I no longer pick up and read), and of course, door handles in public bathrooms (please reference blog called “Everyone must wash hands”). Pretty normally disgusting stuff.

But little by little I started to become grossed out to unhealthy levels by other things. These are not necessarily listed in order of height of phobia.

Money. Dollar bills and change totally gross me out. Don’t get me wrong, I like to have money, and I like to trade it for goods (more than I should), but I don’t like the dirty business of actually handling it. Some nightly news show reported once that you can find feces and crack cocaine on 99% of paper money. I may be skewing this number a bit. But still, anywhere where there’s poop and drugs, it's got to be bad news.

Lets face it, airplanes are complete germ rockets. Air travel is becoming more and more frustrating with extra fees and delays but I have been graced with sitting on a 6 hour flight next to a man with toxic bodily odors. If security allowed such things, I’d be bring a can of Lysol in my carry-on for every flight and fog that baby out. Picture me walking onto the plane with a kerchief tied to my face cowboy style, just unleashing anti-flu chemicals on every unsuspecting passenger. Screw the peanuts, flight attendants should be handing out antibiotics. Do you really think they wash those little pillows (knowing smirk).

Watching a movie on my couch is so much more pleasant than sitting in a movie theater for lots of reasons. The presence of the pause button, for one. The low cost and ability to completely drench in butter and salt my own popcorn. Lack of babysitter costs. Private bathroom (no brainer). But the number one reason that I hate to go to a movie theater is the seat. Yes, it’s uncomfortable, but it’s not that. It’s the fact that I have a resounding need to vigorously wash myself and all my clothes immediately after sitting in that nasty chair. Blegh. (This is turning into a public chair phobia isn't it?) But think of how many people sit in that chair every day. And what they do in that chair. And what they did before they sat in that chair. I refuse to sit in those chairs with shorts on for fear that the backs of my legs might develop a red itchy rash. Again, Lysol.

But I realized I had a real problem today when I found myself completely disgusted after an otherwise wholesome family outing. I became completely skeeved after touching my son’s library book. Yes. The public library. Think about it. Books are brought home and held in front of someone’s (possibly coughing) face for the entirety of it’s lifespan. This particular book was encased in what I can only describe as not-quite-sticky scum. And I thought, “ew”. I’m supporting our local library, I’m teaching my kids great reading habits. I’m saving money. But ew. How is Border’s going out of business? Those books haven’t even been “flagged”. (If you are not a Seinfeld watcher, you will not get this reference, move on.)

I don’t carry my own extra blanket on that plane and cover the entire seat like I really want to. I am way too disorganized to remember to carry hand sanitizer in my purse, and curse myself after I’ve touched the railing in any public building. I have to change my lifestyle in little ways. I never leave my house without my trusty credit card.  I'm forced to wait the extra couple months until movies come out on Netflix instant stream. Woe is me that I have to read my books on an iPad. Life is hard for a germaphobe.