I am such a creature of habits and rituals which is strange to me because I loathed them when I was a child. I envisioned time, my time anyway, as a calendar with all those neat squares and numbers. The Monday to Friday blocks were three-quarters blocked out because of school. I did not understand why school had to take up so much time and the same time everyday. It was moronic and unnatural. I resisted and fought against it with a lot of damn good sick-acting to get me out of school often. I rotated my symptoms to avoid suspicion.
Some of my best tricks in years past: start the night before. At dinner, don�t talk as much if you�re usually a talker. Or talk a lot if you usually don�t. Eat slower than the speed-eaters around you. Don�t complain about anything just yet. Don�t sigh � in my house, sighs were practically the sign of the devil and subject to punishment. We were supposed to be God�s willing instruments, happy to set and clear tables and wash and dry dishes with our older, much-too-enthusiastic, athletic sister with the naturally curly hair.
Show no outward interest in your usual favorite television shows. You can laugh but just. No prolonged hysterics or banging on furniture because you�re out of breath. Go up to bed just before you�re asked, just after the last scene, before the last commercial and before they come back with scenes from next week.
Spend a little extra time in the bathroom and come out rubbing your belly. Mess up your hair a little too. Splash a little water on your face but not enough to make it look like you�re trying to fake fever or sweat. Leave it a question.
Do these things regardless of an audience or not. It takes discipline but it is worth it. Your performance will be more authentic and winning in the end. And the practice never hurts anyway.
Stay up as long as you can. Force coughs and/or loudly change positions in bed often. Get up and go to the bathroom several times, but again use caution. Go downstairs once and get water even though there is a cup in the upstairs bathroom. If your mother helps you, use the opportunity to bend slightly forward at the waist and groan a little. If she asks what�s wrong, say you don�t know.
In the morning notch things up a bit. Put that cup to good use. Bring it in the bathroom; fill it with water. Make a retching noise and at the same time throw the water into the toilet. Flush immediately. Splash the water on your face again. Lean against doorframes and walls a little, intermittently, as you leave the bathroom and walk straight back to your bed. It�s especially effective to do all this after you have dressed for school.
You may have to fake the vomiting one more time but wait a good couple of hours. Don�t overdo this part or you�ll have to spend part of your day at the doctor�s office. Feel remarkably better after each episode. With that carefully splashed water and your bright eyes you�ll look more frenzied than well.
This will work just as well at the office provided you can conceal that cup of water from co-workers in the bathroom. Or, cut it down to its essentials and do a few of the things just prior to calling in sick from home. Getting yourself in the frame of mind will add that little extra legitimacy to your voice.
Enjoy!