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HOOK: The good, the bad and the snotty of getting the flu

There are only two more days until Spring Break officially starts. You know what that means, fellow victims of Murphy’s Law — it’s time for you to get the flu. Now I’m sure there are some smug, annoying and most likely ugly readers out there thinking, “Good thing I got my flu shot.” Well first of all, shut up. And second, I have my reasons for not getting a flu shot.

The common justification for this is the theory that the government is using flu shots to control our minds. I find this very improbable. If the government could create a drug so advanced that it could control our minds, couldn’t they at least have fixed the side effect that causes hemorrhoids? Maybe that’s an unrelated symptom that . . . my friend has. Not me.

My reason for avoiding the flu shot was a little something my grandma once taught me: If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Despite my grandmother’s atrocious grammar, I recognized that she was right, and I have never since applied topical Rogaine to her Mexican hairless. Yet I wonder . . . what color would it be?

I’ve never had the flu nor has anyone in my family. In fact, I’ve never even been sick. Does that mean I’ve never missed a day of class? Of course not, you fool. Does it mean I’m “unbreakable” like Bruce Willis? Probably. But after the hundredth time I was mistaken for my mother on the phone, I realized my prepubescent voice could be used to my advantage: to call myself in sick. Mind you, this is when I was very young. Once I turned 6 and my voice changed, I started to sound like my father. I could have looked like him too if I’d grown out my beard, but I shaved religiously until I was 19, which is when I realized that lots of religious people, Jesus included, don’t shave at all.

Unfortunately, once you’re in college, there’s no one to call when you feel like faking sick. You can send your professor an email, but trying to sound sick through email is incredibly difficult. You can only insert so many *coughs* before it starts to sound phony. I find italics are a good way of making your voice sound hoarse — really, really *cough* hoarse. And, of course, you should never use capital letters when sending such emails, as no sick person has the energy to hit the shift key and not die.

But despite my family’s ironclad (though, ironically, iron-deficient) medical history, I have somehow landed the flu. But what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger. Unless, of course, it disables or even paralyzes you. Come to think of it, that axiom doesn’t make a lot of sense.

There is one axiom that does make sense, however: If life hands you lemons, make lemonade — though, since most lemonade contains less than 10 percent juice, that’s like saying, “If life hands you a bucket of 7-year-olds’ urine, open a Chuck E. Cheese” But I digress. Being sick is awful, but there are things you can do to make it more fun. Here are some of my quick suggestions:

1. Get your detractors sick. Having the flu is like having a license to kill, or at least a license to incapacitate. Find your worst enemy — hell, anybody — and ask to borrow a pencil, use his phone or to become blood brothers. It’s all good, just remember: transmission of fluids is best. Use your imagination. Or a needle if you’ve got one.

2. Do a really bad job of something and get away with it. Haven’t you always wanted to just go into work and do a really half-assed job? I mean, more so than usual? Now’s your opportunity. When the boss comes to give you the smack down, guilt him about working you too hard. As punishment for his negligence, you should demand one free punch. If he declines, spit in his coffee. If he is actually a she, either loosen up or invent a gender-neutral pronoun.

3. Prolong, prolong, prolong. The best thing about being sick is that it’s a guilt-free way to do absolutely nothing for days at a time. Want to watch a movie and drink a milkshake at 2 in the afternoon? Go right ahead! Want to rifle through your roommate’s things while you’re supposed to be in class together? Go for it! The only thing to remember is that rest can often have the unfortunate side effect of causing you to get better. That is why it’s better to do so little that your muscles actually atrophy, preventing your from going to class, or even to a doctor. It’s foolproof. Unless, of course, you had intended to live past 30 — and if you haven’t seen The Day After Tomorrow yet, let me ruin the surprise: You won’t.

Now when I began this column, I was preparing to make a coherent point about something, but my legs gave out three days ago, and I can’t reach the Tylenol. So I’m a little delirious, and come to think of it, hungry. Where are my pants?

Justin Hook, a junior in the College of Communication and College of Arts and Sciences, is a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. He can be reached at jbhook@bu.edu.

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