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22nd January 2025
05:27pm GMT
At some point, everyone has done it. The alarm went off, and your body made the executive decision to stay in bed. Maybe it was a necessary break from the relentless grind of work, or maybe Thursday night took an unexpected turn involving tequila and a karaoke machine. Either way, the sickie was pulled. The email was sent. And for the first few hours, it was bliss.
But now it’s the weekend, and The Fear has set in. There’s no way to undo it. The sick-day guilt looms large. You’re hyper-aware of every decision, suddenly convinced that the universe is conspiring to expose you. It’s not enough to avoid your usual haunts—you need a tactical plan, a guide to navigating Dublin while minimising your chances of running into your boss, your boss’s sister, or that lad from IT who definitely saw your Instagram story at 3 p.m. on Friday.
Here’s how to move through the city undetected, keeping your dignity intact.
Nothing neutralises suspicion like being seen in public with your ma. It’s an ironclad excuse, perfect for deflecting any raised eyebrows. “Ah sure, she just wanted to get me out of the house for a bit.” Bonus points if you bring your mother-in-law—nobody questions an outing with the in-laws. In fact, people will pity you for it. You’ve officially outmanoeuvred anyone who might rat you out.
Scéal –coastal, respectable, and just far enough from high-footfall zones while being right by the car park.
Marks & Spenser’s Café – if questioned, you were “helping pick out a present.”
Avoid: Anywhere with bottomless brunch. Bottomless brunch is not something someone who decided to pull a sickie yesterday can get away with doing.
Soup is the most strategic meal choice available to you. It carries built-in plausible deniability. Caught out? No problem. You were never fully better, just able to stomach a bit of soup. Soup is illness-coded, socially acceptable, and conveniently delicious.
Soup Ramen – quiet enough to hide, trendy enough to still be a bit of fun for your dining companions..
Nomo Ramen – excellent cover story potential: “Needed some nourishing broth.”
Fancy Dunnes food hall – doubles as a “just picking up a few bits” location.
If pressed, take a slow sip of your broth and shake your head slightly. “Ah, still not 100%, you know yourself.” The lie remains intact.
Saunas are the perfect middle ground between “resting up” and “leaving the house.” If you get spotted, your justification is airtight: “Just sweating it out, still not feeling great.” It even makes you look responsible. The trick is to avoid the sauna closest to your workplace. Dublin is too small for those odds. Plus who wants to see their boss white they’re in their togs?
Helios – if you work in media, however, proceed with caution.
Fad Saoil Sauna – lower risk, still a solid jaunt also a great reason to pull a sickie in the first place tbh.
Avoid: Any sauna within a one-kilometre radius of your office, or anywhere frequented by CrossFit people (who will remember and question your presence).
Nobody expects you to be in a library. Especially not over a weekend. This is your advantage. If you absolutely must leave the house but need somewhere low-risk, libraries provide excellent cover. They are silent, unassuming, and, most importantly, not a social hotspot. You can sit in a corner, pretend you’re reading something intellectual, and avoid all human interaction.
Dun Laoghaire Library – gorgeous views, atmospheric, and right beside a food market and hipster coffee shop if you’re feeling adventurous.
Dublin City Library & Archive – sounds like work, looks like work, is not work.
If confronted, tilt your head slightly and say, “Just clearing my head, bit of a reset.” Nobody follows up on this.
There’s something inherently suspicious about getting your hair done when you just called in sick. But if you can’t be seen in the pub … Suddenly, it’s a practical decision. The student training academy haircut is your best move—low-cost, high-reward, and most bosses don’t go to to students for their haircuts, so highly unlikely to get caught.
Where to go:
Toni & Guy Training Academy – offers plausible frugality: “Had it booked weeks ago, non-refundable.”
Any no-frills barber in Rathmines – removed enough from the city centre to avoid workplace encounters.
If anyone asks why you’re out, sigh dramatically: “Ah, sure, self care.” Can’t be questioning self care can we?
An art gallery is a perfect out and about but unbothered option. It makes you look introspective. A person in an art gallery is fundamentally untouchable—nobody will demand an explanation for why you’re there. They’ll assume you’re going through something, and that’s a good thing.
The Hugh Lane – small enough to disappear into, big enough to justify your presence.
The National Gallery – tourist-heavy, meaning low likelihood of running into a coworker.
Deflection tactic: If spotted, just say, “Needed some quiet.” Everyone will accept this at face value.
If you do get caught out somewhere suspiciously lively—say, at a pub, mid-pint—you have two options: Fake a cough. Or Go full philosophical. Option one is obvious. But option two? That’s where you truly regain control. If someone raises an eyebrow at your presence, sigh deeply, stare into the middle distance, and say, “Ah sure… does anyone ever really feel 100%?”
This will end the conversation immediately. Irish people fear introspection. Nobody will challenge you.
You’ve made it through the weekend undetected—or at least, you think you have. Paranoia creeps in. You start to wonder if that guy from accounts did clock you. Should you preemptively say something on Monday? Or would that make it worse? You Google whether other people feel this level of stress after pulling a sickie.
By 7 p.m., you are exhausted. Not from illness, but from the mental gymnastics required to keep up the lie. You debate logging onto Slack just to appear engaged and you wonder if soup was too obvious. You briefly consider calling your mam again. Then remember she’d just say, “You shouldn’t have gone out in the first place.”
At 8 p.m., you give up. Early bed because this has been a deeply stressful weekend.
Monday morning, you will enter the office with a slight cough and a haunted expression. No one will question it.
You have won. You are free to pull a sickie in the future.
