1. Missing School
As a kid, the preliminary sniffles, the fogged hearing and the symphony of coughing all orchestrated perfectly to sound like NO SCHOOL. What better way to spend the day than to lay around, marinating in your own sickness, watching television and sleeping? Who needs an education, anyway?
As an adult? The pounding headaches, body pains and the “I’m-pretty-sure-my-chest-is-about-to-collapse” sensation spells out that you’re still going to class/work. The crippling headache certainly feels better now than the one you’ll have trying to catch up on missed assignments and projects at three in the morning.
2. Your Personal Medical Team
What better medical official than your mother to take care of you when you’re sick as a kid? Your mother doesn’t care that you’re a wheezing, snotty mess. And hey! It seems like the chicken soup is bottomless.
As an adult, your immune system will teach you the true meaning of “one is the loneliest number.” Your roommates are gone; the fridge is empty. Not even the local deli will answer your cries for help. Will you ever recover? It looks bleak.
3. Trips to the Doctor
The doctor became something to do on your vacation-from-life as a kid. The man/woman in the white coat sticks a glass tube underneath your tongue, writes some scribble on a clipboard and you get a lollipop. No reading or math required.
Now you’re deciding how long you can avoid going to the doctor without dying. Yeah, you have a cough, but it’s not that bad of a cough. The fever isn’t that bad—the room is just warm. Help me, I’m poor and afraid of needles.
Medicine sucked, but you took it and Mom was happy. You didn’t even have to leave your bed to take it.
You just want the constant aches and pains to stop, but you will not walk the five blocks to Rite Aid. Yes, you know those horse pills are full of magic and will knock you out in twenty minutes, but you’re not looking to start your career as an extra walker on The Walking Dead just yet. If Chipotle can deliver, why can’t the pharmacy?
5. Preparation for Tomorrow
Whilst you laze about in your bed, you can think of all the work you’re blissfully missing while you play another round of Pokémon. You know, grammar is regrettably without fire-breathing dragons and turtles that shoot water out of cannons on their back.
You’re trying to read the syllabus, but it’s all a blur. Your professor wants you to read eight chapters for tomorrow and you’re not even sure if you’ll make it until then. Excuse me, sir professor ma’am sir, but don’t you think several chapters on the British Romantics is a bit absurd for one, illness-packed night? No? Okay, see you tomorrow.
6. The Aftermath
Upon your majestic arrival back to the playground, you’re well-rested and ready to go. Sniffles be damned, you conquered those nasty germs thanks to Mom’s love and affection.
You’re still in sweats, your hair hasn’t been done in days and quite frankly, you look like you’ve taken a ten-ton truck to face. Mom? Roommates? Anybody?