Valetudinarian: n. a person who is excessively concerned about his or her poor health.

Flowers don't grow here in the spring. It's too cold and dry for any sort of botany to thrive, which, depressing as it might sound, is actually of considerable convenience to those of us with hayfever. It does not, however, prevent each season's strain of influenza from making its way into town. In fact, one might argue that the virus spreads faster due to our size. Not to mention that the near arctic climate keeps the majority of the population indoors, which allows airborne illnesses to extend quicker than they would in, say, Nebraska.

And I'm a magnet for disease. Diabetes, allergies, chicken pox, kidney failure, AIDS, hemorrhoids, second degree sunburn, and every viral infection I come in contact with. I have a ridiculously weak immune system, which only appends to my developing into something I particularly disdain: a stereotype.

And it pisses me off, because it really is uncomfortable to have to sit in a classroom with immense sinus pressure and chest congestion at least once every two months. I know very well how to take care of myself at this point, but that doesn't mean persistent cold symptoms don't get on my nerves like they would for anyone else.

That's actually why I dread this time of year. While it may be getting warmer, late April brings a plethora of illness I've yet to be exposed to, simply because of the season shift. I always know it's coming, from the dull scratchy ache in my throat to the consistent throbbing twinge in my sinuses that's sure to develop into an embarrassingly runny nose and sticky cough.

It's just past the first stage right now, and I can't really be bothered to take any aspirin or a day off from school. Although I'm usually careful and do what I can to keep my contagion under control, there's only so much I can do. I have a test in math and an oral presentation in History – if I'm going to achieve academic success, staying home isn't really an option.

I plan to make it through the day as quickly as possible and with little to no physical contact of any kind. Stan, predictably, blatantly ignores this rule and embraces me at my locker. He realizes that's as far as I'll go when I turn my head as he tries to kiss me.

"It's for your own good," I remind him as he pouts.

We part and head to our respective classes, and during my trek to the science lab I feel a pair of warm arms wrap around my torso from behind.

"Sick again?" Kenny guesses after he lets go. I'm fairly confused at his unexpected embrace, but brush it off as a mere spontaneous Kenny-greeting.

"A little," I answer, wondering if my appearance really is as weary as Kenny is making it out to be.

"It's just that time of the month," He teases with a quirky grin, and he's on his way soon enough.

When I arrive at the science lab, I'm greeted by a generic-looking girl's skinny arms enfolding me, and by now I'm genuinely bewildered.

Stan hugging me is certainly normal, and Kenny hugging me isn't far from ordinary either. But as this girl's strong, flowery perfume wafts into my near-blocked nostrils, I pull back and promptly ask her what the hell is going on.

She shrugs and tells me it's Hug a Jew Day.

Fuck, I forgot it's that time of the year too.

This was so unrelated to itself. Did you like it?