...call up the production and claim that you are so sick you simply cannot continue working today. You feel terrible having to have to ask this, but is there any way on the planet that you could possibly be replaced? This feels like a slow death.
A tidal wave of sympathy and understanding engulfs you, a replacement is swiftly found and five gruelling hours after you started you are released from the torture that was Working while on the Verve of Collapse. And you go home.
Only to be spotted having a beer and a cigarette outside a bar, sitting in the winter sun less than two hours later.