New Job, The Norovirus, and Being Emetophobic

I have a new job; something that is particularly uncomfortable for someone who obviously hates formalities as much as I do. (see first post) The worst part of this new job is not the fact that it is monotonous (I am so grateful to have a job. Even a monotonous one) and it isn't the people that I work with...It is that I seem to have started working in a public place, handling public materials, when there is some sort of Noro-type virus going around. You see, I am an Emetophobic. Emetophobia is a nasty fear in which the sufferer, namely me, has a paralyzing preoccupation and fear of anything having to do with vomit. It is also so taboo that when typed into the computer auto corrects into "homophobia" (which I certainly don't have.) I am in a constant state of panic. It feels like that scene in a horror movie when everyone has turned into a zombie and the protagonist is trapped behind a door, clinging to life with an ax and plotting her next move to keep from being infected. Yes. It is that intense. Now, factor in the fact that my entire day consists of handling 100's of books that have just been dropped into a box by every Tom, Dick, and Nancy "I-don't-wash-my-hands-after-I-poo," and you get me huddled in my bed at 12:26 a.m. on a work night writing a blog post to take my mind off of the terror.

I try to casually introduce the fact that I am an emetophobic into conversations with new friends and coworkers. I do this for two reasons- It lets them know why I sanitize my hands until they bleed (although I found out today that hand sanitizer does not kill Noroviruses...more reason to feel sheer terror) and scratch any area on my face with the inside of my shirt (most viruses enter your body via the orifices on your face), AND lets them know that if they ever feel the slightest need to be sick I will probably run screaming in horror and then ask them 500 questions (from a distance) in hopes that they will notice my nonchalance (yeah right) *face palm*

I have tried telling myself that it will not kill me and that I will feel better, but ultimately the only thing that I can think about is the fact that I WILL be sick before I am bettter, norovirus is practically the plague, and oh my lord kill me now! I think about the fact that my night will be sent shaking and popping a box of pepto bismol, but the infomercials will be fairly entertaining (I cannot tell you how many exercise I have nearly purchased. Who wouldn't want those abs?) and I can always make it through the next day on pure adrenaline from the frightful night before.

The bottom line is that I have a debilitating disorder, for which humor is the only thing that makes it bearable. Also, I know that I should be grow up and be an "adult" about the whole vomiting thing (if only it were that simple) and (I started something just to put words in parenthesis because it seems that this has been a theme for this entry) AND (that I just did it again). Oh well. Why be an adult when you can be me?