- You will always get sick on a Friday, never on a Monday. Thursday afternoon you start getting that niggling feeling at the back of your throat. That “maybe it’s the flu but hopefully it’s just dehydration” feeling. You figure by the next day it’ll be over. You figure wrong. Come morning, every time you try to swallow it feels like someone is shoving a red hot poker down your throat. You resign yourself to a screwed up Friday, figuring you only need a day of rest before it’s all systems go and you can go back to happily drinking your weekend away. Again, you figure wrong. The next two days are spent alternating between wishing someone would put you out of your misery and sleeping like a (particularly bloated) newborn. This state of affairs continues until Monday morning, when you wake up just fine.
- The weekend you’re sick, that’s when the ‘Net will be down. That’s right, because [Insert Name of Entity That’s Usually A Target For Your Creative Blasphemy Here] can be a real bastard. So as soon as you’ve forced the panadols down and you’ve settled in for a cosy and protracted stalking session on Facebook while trying to pretend the red-hot poker isn’t still lodged in your throat…wham. You’re hit with the circle of never-ending loading. Which is eventually followed by the fatal “server cannot be found” message. Which is then followed by much screaming. Or rather, it would be, were it not for the presence of said red-hot poker lodged in your throat.
- Sometimes your chosen Entity is not so much a bastard as a totally sadistic pig with a sick (ahem) sense of humour. This is true particularly when, besides cutting off access to internet (and ergo to all civilisation as we know it) s/he/it also kills your electricity supply. This is one instance where whimpering like a sissy is totally permitted.
- The weekend you’re sick is the weekend when THE event you’ve been looking forward to all month is happening. Oh yes, and you probably had free tickets for it. Or, even worse, paid for the VIP version ‘cos you wanted to impress that hot chick who agreed to be your date after you promised her a never-ending supply of premium vodka. So while you’re sweating out your 103 degrees of fever in a bed that’s alternately too cold and too warm, everyone else on the island is having a good time at said event. Including that chick who was supposed to be drinking her body weight in vodka and then getting down to all sorts of shameless shenanigans with you. Oh yeah she’s still drinking her weight in vodka and doing all sorts of shameless shenanigans. Only, she’s doing it with your best friend. Cos you were stupid enough to pass on those VIPs to him. The next day you will find a hundred and one updates on Facebook about how “masssiivvvveeeee” the whole thing was. Or you would find a hundred and one updates, if only you had electricity and internet.
- This is also the weekend you discover that your prized collection of DVD downloads is scratched and unusable. Remember those Fraser re-runs you wanted to watch but never had the time for? With no electricity and no ‘net, you figure now is the time to pop them on your laptop. Only thing is the programme doesn’t seem to be opening. You get the DVD out, give it a good wipe and go forth to inspect it. That’s when you see the scratches going from one side to the other. You realise that instead of Fraser, you’re doomed to endless episodes Mr. Bean Goes on Holiday, which you filch from your brother’s room.