Give us your sick

I have been trying, unsuccessfully, to get sick for the last three or four months. My reasoning is simple: I want a day off work. But there is some sort of compulsion inside me that will not allow me to take a day off for no reason (and sadly, playing Rock Band in my underpants all day while Ben is at work apparently does not qualify as a "reason" in my muddled chain of thought), and so my only option is to become sick-- not death flu sick, but just sick enough to allow myself to remain on the couch all day, reading old Entertainment Weeklys and watching "A Real Chance at Love" on VH1.

But apparently, I have developed the immune system of some sort of invincible god, as nothing-- not hand-shaking, not standing too close to someone who is apparently about to cough up their liquefied innards, not glass-sharing with a confirmed tuberculosis sufferer-- can penetrate its defenses.

There are several explanations for this:

1. I am an invincible god!

2. It's the effing vitamins!

3. Too much salad?

But whatever the reason, it's keeping me from my end goal of lying about all day in a low-level state of crappiness. And this has to end, now, because I simply can't continue going to work and sitting among the throng of totally viral co-workers with their sneezing and their tissues and their raspy coughs without getting to experience any of the benefits!

So if you are sick right now, I ask that you please breathe into an envelope and mail it to me, stat. I promise you, if this works, I will thank you from the bottom of my achy, couch-supported, legally earned day off bones.