It seemed that each and every time I got a high-profile solo in the choir, all would be going well. And at the last minute, some kiss-ass whose parents were active in the church would end up joining me in what quickly went from a sweet gig of a solo to an all-out quartet where I was fighting for mike time.

There was always this tone-deaf girl Sarah who sang along with me, croaking her way through what was supposed to be my song, my glory, my moment to shine and allow everyone else to see that I too was talented. Instead there was me singing my alto part and her ribbit-ribbit-ing over what I was creating.

Okay, so this wasn�t the point of the entry. Let me take a deep, cleansing breath and a step back.

There was this song called �Germs� that Nice Girl Courtney got to sing. It was cute and stuff, talking about her friend �Germs�. No, she didn�t have an out-of-state boyfriend-type person named Jeremy and was using that as a cutsey nickname or anything, but the song was talking about an honest-to-goodness relationship with germs.

I hide him in my pocket
�cause he�s very, very small
Germs, germs, my invisible friend

You remember the nail chewer/nose miner? Don�t tell me she wouldn�t think twice about holding the handrail!

Right across from me was a pixie sans the wings (listening to her talk, I was pretty sure that her pixie dust was cut up on a mirror and snorted prior to getting on the el), and this girl wouldn�t stop coughing.

And she touched the handrail.

And then she coughed again.

And then others started coughing and touching things too.

The front of my el car. The back of my el car. Even the man next to me neglected to cover his mouth.

And I felt like I was at the bottom of a cave from the echoes.

If I don�t breathe, they can�t get me, right?

I remember the sing-song rhyme about death, �The worms go in, the worms go out,� and I imagine germ bugs crawling up my nose even if I�m not breathing.

And what about the really, really small germs? Can they fit through my pores, infecting my bloodstream through any exposed skin?!

Before a full-out freak-out occurs, I remember my one saving grace: my 32 ounce bottle of hand sanitizer waiting for me at home. [sigh]�