COSMOPOLITAN CONTRACT The sick day
This is an agreement made by A Woman Who Called In Sick Today,
(hereafter referred to as The Afflicted)
1 OUT OF OFFICE
Before proceeding with her sick day, The Afflicted will compose her most pathetic, but non-specific, message to work. “I feel really glandy. I think I have a fever!” she will write. To avoid jinxing herself, The Afflicted will continue getting ready for work, slooooowly, until the sympathetic reply comes through. *Air punch followed by coughing fit*
2 THE SICK KIT
The Afflicted will now assemble her lurgy arsenal. This will include: Lemsip, Olbas Oil, painkillers, cough syrup, two flavours of throat sweets, hot water bottle, blanket and big socks, all arranged so she doesn’t need to get out of bed. She will then admire her sick kingdom, Instagram it for sympathy, then immediately fall asleep.
3 HEALTHY CULTURE
After waking up in a heap of used tissues, The Afflicted will decide she should put all this bonus time to good use and read a classic novel. Then she’ll think ‘nah’ and choose the best medicine of all: old episodes of Friends.
4 SUPERFOODS
The Afflicted will decide she wants the sick-day lunch of her childhood: Heinz tomato soup. Also, the balm tissues have run out and she’s been forced to move on to kitchen roll, so, like a hero, The Afflicted will drag herself to the corner shop. She will splutter dramatically every few steps, in case her boss is hiding in the bushes.
5 AS GOOD AS A REST
At some point in the early afternoon, Tissue Mountain will get out of control. The Afflicted’s bed will start feeling like a wrinkly pit of disease, so she will decide to change her feng shui by moving her duvet to the sofa. Here, she will be forced to watch three episodes of Homes Under The Hammer, because the remote is buried under the cushions and she is still too weak from the soup outing to find it.
6 QUIZZICAL THERAPY
After four hours of exposure to daytime TV ads, The Afflicted will find herself wondering if she needs life insurance. This leads to her panicking about dying alone and who she would give said insurance to. She will fail to get the Countdown ‘Conundrum,’ a Pointless answer or anything right on Eggheads, and decide that her lurgy must have spread to her brain.
7 REHABILITATION
As the clock hits 6pm, The Afflicted will find, to her surprise, that she feels quite a lot better. Maybe she’s recovered enough to get some fresh air. Just a gentle walk round the block? To the pub? Suddenly giddy at the prospect of human contact, The Afflicted will do her make-up like an escaped hostage before a TV interview. “I’ve been off sick today, so just a hot whisky and lemon,” she will tell everyone in a feeble voice. “Or, OK, maybe a cold wine.” Which is the exact moment her boss will walk in.