(FORTUNE Magazine) – Patient presents as an otherwise normal, healthy male in the prime of mid-life, adequately dressed and groomed, although by no means prepossessing. Individual came in complaining of a variety of ailments of mysterious nature, all of which this physician suspects are linked to the same disturbing syndrome. Prior to diagnosis and suggestion of specific course of treatment, description of patient's pathological manifestations would be in order. These are they:

--Dread ache: Patient complains of awakening in the morning with an overpowering sense that something is going to come along and, as he puts it, "burst my bubble." Reports feeling that problems are huge and ability to deal with them is diminishing, resulting in conviction that a massive, sinister presence with big, shiny, serrated teeth is hovering somewhere just outside his field of view, waiting to rush in and annihilate everything he loves and has worked for.

--High detail intolerance: Subject reports that as complex situations or problems are outlined to him, he quickly loses the ability to focus on their constituent parts, instead viewing all management issues as featureless blobs of undifferentiated mass, with no moving parts and no handles by which they can possibly be grabbed and moved in one direction or another. Coincident with this symptom is the sensation of pure, crushing boredom when the demand is made that he either listen to, focus upon, or retain any information for more than five minutes about any subject smaller than a Greyhound bus.

--Rash decisionitis: Coincident tendency to make snap decisions, possibly wrong, just to get the entire process of listening, reacting, thinking, and deciding over with. Patient found he was making more decisions than ever before in order to undo the effects of the bad ones made earlier in the month, creating a spiral of dysfunction that causes pain to him and all those within his reporting structure.

--Waxy flabability: Between such orgies of false decisiveness, patient becomes aware of himself sitting in his chair and simply staring off into space. This symptom superficially presents itself as "thinking," and for some time subject believed himself to be engaged in just such activity, until it was pointed out to him that while he had ostensibly been in cogitation, a small rivulet of spittle had worked its way down the side of his mouth and was collecting at the tip of his chin. At this point, patient realized that not one coherent thought had entered his mind since his last discussion about the changeover in Hong Kong.

--Low mirth weight: Subject also reports a sudden inability to laugh at situations and jokes that are not funny. This is a crippling liability in the business environment in which he finds himself, since the ability to laugh at unamusing things is one of the prime ingredients of successful insincerity.

--Irritable vowel syndrome: At the same time, subject has been snapping at people whom he usually treats decently. He reports emitting a pathetic and self-pitying "aiiieeee!" when the bagel brought to him by his assistant, out of the goodness of her heart, was insufficiently toasted. This shortness of temper is attended by a limp, enervated feeling of guilt and shame.

--Munch-houses syndrome by proxy: Most perplexing, in this catalogue of disorders, is the subject's propensity to "step away" at lunchtime for an extended period and to "drop in" at pubs, bars, delis, taverns, and fast-food emporia to eat, drink, and feign merriment. Consequently, subject has grown somewhat ample in several regards, a fact pointed out by his closest associates, with whom he is then angry.

--Athlete's nose: On these aimless and dilatory excursions, patient apparently experiences a severe itching in and around the nose and a strong impulse to follow that appendage to a place where something other than coffee and bad aftershave can be smelled. Several days ago, he states, he allowed his nose to lead him into a park for no business purpose whatsoever and found himself bending over a completely useless flower, sniffing.

--Underdistorted perspective: Overall ennui and detachment from obviously important matters produces in the subject what he believes to be an accurate perception of the true importance of many business matters. On the morning of his visit, patient reports having attended a breakfast on the subject of the 1998-99 strategic plan and been plagued throughout by a sensation that "none of this was worth a rat's whisker." He left the meeting, disturbed about his well-being, and made the appointment with this physician.

--Eustachian brain seepage: Most alarming, on the way over to this appointment, the patient states, portions of his cerebrum began to leak out of his ears and nose. Surprised and concerned, he attempted to stanch the flow of gray matter with a cigar he had on hand, but succeeded only in irritating his ears, his nose, and several passersby who had the misfortune to witness the incident. Patient states he is worried that, having lost significant brain matter in the 1960s, he doesn't have a great amount to spare.

Each of these varied complaints, taken individually, is susceptible to any number of diagnoses. Considered together, however, their message is eloquent: The afflicted fellow suffers from what we experts in the medical business refer to as Gross Vacation Deficiency. This person needs an extended period out of the office, away from men (and women) in black, including himself.

This physician therefore directs that the subject leave the facilities of his corporation immediately and go without pause to Scotland, where he may golf if he so desires, or possibly to the Aegean, where he must sit on a boat and drink ouzo. If, of course, he is content to experience last year's cure, he may go Tuscany by way of St. Barts.

Whatever solution the patient chooses to immerse himself in, he should definitely take steps right away, before any of these stated conditions become permanent. The prescription can't be too clear: Get out of town. Now. This means you.

A summer is a terrible thing to waste.

By day, STANLEY BING is a real executive at a real FORTUNE 500 company he'd rather not name.