Swiners, Hubbies and Pointless Soapboxes

I'm surrounded by swiners, or people who are either infected with H1N1, or with children suffering from it. I'd call the infected kids piglets, but it would be a misnomer and a pointless debasement of innocent immature Suinae. Just for fun, I combined "infected" with "piglet" to form "infiglet," but it sounds like a disconcerting condition in which a small fig becomes lodged in an uncomfortable place. H1N1ers is more correct overall, but not nearly so fun as "swiner," which sadly furthers the causes of the ignorant - case in point, the Egyptian government, which is now up to its smartypants in garbage.

Anyway.

My team at work has been dubbed Team Hypochondria, due to the presence of industrial-sized bottles of hand sanitizer on our desks and the collection of crucifixes that we keep in our drawers to brandish at anyone who sneezes, coughs or says the word "sick." If somebody is mysteriously absent, we descend upon her or his desk like the antiplague, indiscriminately raining down the swift justice and antimicrobial properties of Lysol spray. I'm sure we've saved lives!

Speaking of saving lives, I trekked to Office Max last night in the gloomy rain, some of Klute's (Interesting! Wikipedia claims that his music should NOT be considered Liquid. I disagree, until he says it himself!) more melancholy, ambient stuff exuding from my car's speakers. I'd just finished up at FedEx, where I had a few of my piano books spiral bound (it cost about $20, for 4 thick books). I wandered around, looking for a rectangular plastic floor mat to go under the desk that Jesper finds so latrine-esque. In the process, I knocked down the whole floor mat display, which fell into a display of sunglasses, scattering them everywhere and causing a rumpus.

Back to the saving lives part - mine in particular, because if I had to scrub the carpet one more time, I would have committed suicide. We have now thwarted the pee! Whee!

As of this morning, the Lady Captain Obviouses (it should be a kickball team - I'm sure they'd be well-dressed) of the social networking world have referred to their husbands as their "hubbies" one too many times. It has resulted in me making a pact with myself to never, EVER refer to S as my "hubby." Even "husband" is pushing it a little bit. "Spouse" is too PC (and sounds like vermin) and "significant other" is too HS (for High School). I think I'll just call him BY HIS NAME.

I'm invited to dinner at Batman's parents' house tonight.

What an interesting idea.