Cooties I can't handle.

I know some sick people. Really sick. Once again, not the To Catch a Predator sick, I just mean plain old sick. Fever. Sore throats. Body aches. Extreme exhaustion.

And only one thing ties them up together. We work in advertising. In fact, all the people I know who are almost dead sick, have been working non stop for a presentation, over at least a month.

The presentation is not the thing that bugs me (no pun intended). It's the fact that I can bet that advertising is the single most disease spreading environment in the world. Why? Because we all love to work sick. We know we have a bug inside us, a big deadly bug that is telling us "cut the shit and go home to sleep"... but hey, we all have to seem like we have a huge desire for work. Vomiting? Oh yeah sure. But that layout has to go to the newspaper, and dammit, there is only one person in the world that can actually send it. Me.

Yeah. Right.

What the fuck is going on, people? What happened to our lives and our health? How kiss ass can you be to go to work sick? I mean, they are not giving out medals for super human creatives or ad execs, as far as I know. I know that work has to be finished, but trust me, it's not the end of the world. Someone else can do your job for a couple of hours, even worse... they can actually make do without you. By you not stopping and giving yourself time to heal, all you are doing is being a shmuck. You will end up looking like the poor victim who, well, has to go finish their job because it is like a God given command, and worse, you are actually spreading your cooties all around healthy people.

Work always goes on. People fill for other people once in a while. Do you work at a slave joint I mean ad agency where there is no possible way that someone can replace you? Fuck them then. Let them figure out what to do. Hire someone for a day, get outside freelance help, whatever. It is not your duty to do all the things.

I always say this to my sick friends: "Picture this. Instead of vomiting your insides (which is highly recommended for dropping pounds in a very sick way), let's say you got into an accident and died. You then definitively can't come into work, right? Would the agency go all shitfaced and not know what to do? No, right? They would find a way to mourn you and still find some help finishing that full page ad. Get the picture? Now go home and get some damn sleep."

The sad thing is? Most of my friends nod, because they know I have a point. But still the sick fuckers actually go to work the next morning. And yes... they spread their lovely sickness to all around them.

Do you have to die in order to get that ad life goes on without you, even for a couple of days? How bad can you actually get, how many times do you literally end up at the hospital because you didn't rest enough so that your boss would think you are a team player?

If you can't give me an answer... then you are truly a sick person. So go home, take two Tylenols and call me in the morning.

This is Dr. Me, signing off. Booyaka.