Oh, how I wish I could claim that was not an intended pun, but alas ...
My parents, perhaps sensing that with one child and another on the way I was putting myself in a financial position to perhaps soon not be able to take great vacations, offered to bring my family (at the time, myself, Alicia and our one year old - and again, Alicia was 6 or so months pregnant with what would be our daughter) down to Sanibel Island, FL (gulf coast) for one week of the two they'd be vacationing down there. Wow, great start - how could this be bad?
On the flight down, one of us (which was me) started sweating rather profusely. It didn't help that the little one wanted to sit on my lap the four hours of flying time. So, I assumed that was causing my warmth. Sadly, not the case. Nearly three days later, I had seen exactly twelve seconds of sunlight and ocean, and maybe fifteen seconds of pool time. I'd "seen" about 33 hours of the now sweat-soaked couch, and had spent the remaining few hours, mainly each of those that I was awake during, in the smallest room of the condo - again, sorry for the cheap pun in the post's title. Turns out even if you aren't taking in food or water, you can expel it for a good two to three days.
By week's end, I'd guess percentage-wise, I'd spent 80% of my "vacation" on the couch, 17% in that little room, and approximately 3% of the week outside, pretending I had recovered enough to enjoy myself. Oddly enough, when my family discusses this vacation and starts conversations with "Remember ..." I have to say that I do not.