I have a head cold. Snot fountains.
|Are you kidding?|
LACK OF STARS:
STEP 1 “The sneaky whimper”
Coining the phrase that the long suffering love of my life, Bridget, used in relation to me:
‘Things took a turn for the feeble’.
At this stage, it’s not enough for you to simply feel dreadful – everybody nearby must know also. Everywhere your significant other/housemate/boss goes, they must find you curled up, snivelling and looking at them through a haze of pain and self pity. What does this accomplish? They might bring you some orange juice.
|Oh hi… I don’t feel too good. The saucepan? Yeah… I guess you can have it. Sniff.|
STEP 2 “THE MAD APOTHECARY”
Maybe you have a ball to attend, or the prospect of early morning work, but you suddenly realise you don’t want to be sick. You’re crushing garlic into a potentially deadly smoothy made of crushed paracetamol and berocca, while gargling shoe polish and applying various oils to your chakras. Nothing is too strange for you at this point. If you’re like me, of course, you may over diagnose yourself with fake hypochondria juice and then feel even worse.
STEP 3 “A stationary invalid”
People admire your dignity and fragile strength, as you lay weighted beneath several blankets and your crippling illness. You haven’t moved in days, and whatever pustulant room you chose to inhabit is encrusted with tissues, various confectionary wrappers and pity. Remain in this position for long enough that even the illness you are infected with finds you pitiful and moves on to more interesting climates.
Follow these handy steps, and you can go home and be sick too!
0/5 stars. I’m siiiiiiiiicckkkkkkk. You’re lucky you’re getting this half assed post, and not just a bag full of phlegm.