Hands

I have been sick since the ballet performance of the Nutcracker in the Philips Collections last Thursday night (damn it!) While I was sitting in the back, admiring the young dancers' flexibility and balance, and enjoying Tchaikovsky's music, my throat turned dry. I, off course kept drinking water, but couldn't moist it. I woke up with a sore throat, and almost a week later, I can't sleep from cough.
I hate being sick! As if someone likes it.
I blame it on the lack of hygiene in the U.S. culture. People don't wash their hands before they prepare meals, nor before they eat. Some of us didn't grow up that way, and are not immune to everything. Some of us grew up washing our hands before and after EVERY meal. Yes. That was the rule of a first grade book in Former Yugoslavia. It was next to the Cyrillic alphabet.
And (damn it), I was actually, really, saying to myself recently how happy I am for not being sick while everyone around me was sick. I thought it was my vegetarian diet, Yoga, and my cleanliness. Much does that do if you eat out, or at someone's house. And it's hard to give that up.
People, what is the matter with you! Wash your hands! It's the flu season, for God's sake.