Tag Archives: Stress

Leisure Sickness

Spring break!!!!1! WOOOOOOOOOOO


Spring break? It’s autumn and we live in ‘straya ya dickhead. 

You are right to query the opening statement for more than the mistaken seasonal observation. Let me explain why I quoted Spring Breakers. It wasn’t because it stole 94 minutes of my life and turned me off all movies specifically about Spring Break starring James Franco, Vanessa Hudgens and Selena Gomez. Not at all.

The motive behind such a glorious statement is that I am on holidays for a month. 31 days. 1/12th of the entire year. Wonderful plans and aspirations are in place for this period of time, a period far superior to all that came before it. I can see the opportunity for menstrual and sperm puns in the previous sentence but I will ignore it as I enter this new era of opportunity. With this new time off I can get fit, clean the house and create an insect wrestling league in a Tupperware container. Right?

Not right. Or as they say in Wales, wrong. My delicious alabaster body has joined forces with my weak constitution and they have arranged to give me the gift of pestilence. Sickness – coursing through my body and stealing my sunshine. According to WebMD it is either ‘Leisure Sickness’ or ‘Cancer’. My inner optimist is assuming it is the former but leisure sickness is almost impossible to diagnose or even explain to a person that hasn’t had at least 4 years of professional medical training. To simplify it – it done makes you sick when you don’t at work.

What a wretched curse this is! How will I co-ordinate, view and judge the Intercontinental Championship title between Antre the Giant & Hulk Housefly? Perhaps the answer is in the question…

Eureka! If I keep up a level of stress equal to that of my job then I won’t be sick on my holidays. It seems simple enough; I just have to put pressure on myself for everyday activities.

What if I miss a spot when I am brushing my teeth? I could get a cavity. What if the 5-0 pulls me over and does a cavity search? They would put their fingers in my mouth and it would be freaking gross. What if they did it after they searched my bum? I better brush them again.

As the strain of everyday activities bears down on me I have gained a level of health that only 3 day old pizza and litres of soft drink can provide. My muscles feel tense and my hunch is more pronounced than ever. It’s not just physical improvements either, I am so irritable that the slightest misfortune will cause me to flip out or break down. And therein lies the excitement of this type of treatment, I never know how I’ll react.

There sauce bottle has a crust of old sauce on the lid? “BRAUGHAHE, THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT!” I scream at the bottle. Then slowly I crawl into the foetal position when I realise I am yelling at a sauce bottle. Poor Mr Fountain, he just wanted to make delicious sauce more accessible for the people. How was he to know the single flaw in his otherwise perfect condiment dispenser?

Now that I am back to at least 51% health I have a meeting with the one and only ‘Stone Cold Steve Waspin’. He is possibly the greatest insect wrestler of his generation, even if his lifespan is only 22 days. So off I go, crying uncontrollably and singing the theme from Sesame Street. Sunny days, sweeping the clouds away, on my way to where the air is sweet….