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An Open Letter to the Sneezing, Coughing People Who Sit Beside Me

Dear sick girl in class:

I know you. I have been you.

You look like hell. Your hoodie is stuffed with Kleenex, you gave up on make-up, and you haven’t washed your hair in days. You have three different drinks in front of you. Germs are dripping off your fingertips and no, no, you may not borrow my pen.

Know that if you infect me, I will carry that grudge forever.

I understand why you are here. Exams are looming. I’m scared too. But illness is one of the few valid excuses for missing class and professors will understand. Go home, chug some NyQuil, and snuggle up with Netflix. Think of this as a shitty, guilt-free vacation.

I will gladly give you my notes. I will go over Powerpoint slides with you, line by line (just not in person). I am willing to negotiate in order to get you the hell away from me.

Please. You reek of misery and cherry cough medicine. For the good of the people, go home.

Your friend,

Healthy three weeks and counting