The world of falsified sick-leave has been in a bit of a creative slump recently. People just don't seem to care anymore. While I'm sure that a mixed kebab at three in the morning probably didn't help your overall well-being, calling it food poisoning is just lazy. Eight tequila shots and the accidental drinking of an ashtray should prompt you to invent whimsical ailments, such as Mexican Grippe, or tar infused stomach acidity. While I salute your propensity to party, I naysay your ability to coin decent excuses.
But I understand. I appreciate that finding a believable affliction first thing on a Monday can be a bit of a bogus ride for all you 24 hour party people, and that googling in the hopes of finding one is not entirely dissimilar to actually going to work in the first place. I get it. So, I've decided to help. Altruism I think they call it.
Below are a list of underused scourges of the body that are entirely original, believable, but most importantly, temporary. Road test one of these bad boys next time you wake up in a ditch on a school-day, praying like crazy for a head that wasn't the ill-gotten gains of some very questionable robot dancing. I know I will.
Smoke Inhalation. Particularly useful if your voice sounds like you've been at a nail gargling party hosted by Janis Joplin and Eartha Kitt.
Altitude sickness. More effective if you first grow a beard and make sure to magic marker a few digits before going into the work the following day. Remember not to give any credit to your Sherpa, as you will lose all plausibility as a mountaineer.
Love Blindness. Difficult to argue the viability of a day off work using this one, so be careful. On the plus side, it should clear up in a day or two; considering you can hardly even remember what she looks like.
The Sweats. A very real affliction apparently, which can be brought on by plane flights, diet allergies, and the two o'clock Monday morning realisation that you left the office unlocked all weekend.
The Runs. An oldie but a goodie. The greatest thing about runny poo is that no-one wants to talk about it, so make sure you go into excessive detail. Keeping in mind the common knowledge that no-one who wasn't genuinely sick would discuss the frequency and shade of their bowel movements, this technique should see you home and (figuratively) hosed.
Growing Pains. Nothing to do with calling in sick, I was just genuinely interested in what became of Kirk Cameron. I miss him.
Summer Sale Madness. You may need a bit of panache to pull this one off. My recommendation is to mumble the first bit, place emphasis on 'madness' and giggle uncontrollably during any conversation lapses.
The Bends. Take a snorkel to work the next day, and if anybody gives you lip, just get disproportionally irritated and reply: "Well I WOULD expect that coming from someone whose blood is oxygenated correctly!"
But I understand. I appreciate that finding a believable affliction first thing on a Monday can be a bit of a bogus ride for all you 24 hour party people, and that googling in the hopes of finding one is not entirely dissimilar to actually going to work in the first place. I get it. So, I've decided to help. Altruism I think they call it.
Below are a list of underused scourges of the body that are entirely original, believable, but most importantly, temporary. Road test one of these bad boys next time you wake up in a ditch on a school-day, praying like crazy for a head that wasn't the ill-gotten gains of some very questionable robot dancing. I know I will.
Smoke Inhalation. Particularly useful if your voice sounds like you've been at a nail gargling party hosted by Janis Joplin and Eartha Kitt.
Altitude sickness. More effective if you first grow a beard and make sure to magic marker a few digits before going into the work the following day. Remember not to give any credit to your Sherpa, as you will lose all plausibility as a mountaineer.
Love Blindness. Difficult to argue the viability of a day off work using this one, so be careful. On the plus side, it should clear up in a day or two; considering you can hardly even remember what she looks like.
The Sweats. A very real affliction apparently, which can be brought on by plane flights, diet allergies, and the two o'clock Monday morning realisation that you left the office unlocked all weekend.
The Runs. An oldie but a goodie. The greatest thing about runny poo is that no-one wants to talk about it, so make sure you go into excessive detail. Keeping in mind the common knowledge that no-one who wasn't genuinely sick would discuss the frequency and shade of their bowel movements, this technique should see you home and (figuratively) hosed.
Growing Pains. Nothing to do with calling in sick, I was just genuinely interested in what became of Kirk Cameron. I miss him.
Summer Sale Madness. You may need a bit of panache to pull this one off. My recommendation is to mumble the first bit, place emphasis on 'madness' and giggle uncontrollably during any conversation lapses.
The Bends. Take a snorkel to work the next day, and if anybody gives you lip, just get disproportionally irritated and reply: "Well I WOULD expect that coming from someone whose blood is oxygenated correctly!"
7 comments:
i've used the scutters one on numerous occasions, as i believe you know. i say "scutters" because as you also know, i can't spell di-a-ria.
i've also gone for complete honesty in that i've called and politely explained that i'm simply too hungover and would doubtless prove a liability should i actually make the crawl into the office.
my finest moment was when i drunkenly called and pretended not to be me, explaining slowly that "Rosie" had lost her voice and couldn't come to the phone, then signed off with an audible sigh of relief and the supervisor's name (she hadn't introduced herself to Rosie's "friend").
it worked.
I've got 24-hour dead.
man, as i was reading that i thought to myself
"he so needs 'the bends' in this list"
Damn.
How about trying to sound all medical but in actual fact say nothing? To wit:
* I've got a bone in me leg
* I've dislocated my synapses (lost a few brain cells drinking)
* My electrolytes are at a critically low level (my mouth feels as though a camel slept in it and I need a glass of water)
* Herniated Fibula
* Ear infection (still can't walk straight)
Or say what one of my lackeys said to me a few years back: "I need a day under the doona to revive my Mojo." No, she didn't get a good performance review!
I once rang in for a friend the morning after a big one and pretended to be her mother calling in sick for her. Totally convincing, I was. Think my name was Julia. Personally, I always opt for the migraine because there are no residual symptons needed to prove anything the next day, they can come on at any moment and who's to say alcohol had anything to do with?
Yeah, I miss Kirk too. In fact, God damn it, I miss the whole bloody family.
Altruistically, you're in a league of your own, Davey.
Rosie o' the scutters. For all of it's auditory subtlety you may as well call it 'drip drip splat'. High fives on having a docile boss though, I'm just relieved you didn't sign off with 'see you tomorrow!'.
Keeks, I left it till last just to keep you on your toes.
Kath, would your friend mind if I pilfered that? Although my Mojo is as hearty as the next guys, some would say even more hearty, a day under the doona surely couldn't do it any harm. By the way, what is Mojo?
Blakkat, while I'll be the first to admit that your Julia impression is spookily uncanny, surely your skills are wasted on the migraine excuse? Sure, it's believable, temporary, and non-projectile, but couldn't I tempt you with a nice bout of dum-dum fever? Just a little bout? It's ever so much more appealing.
Growing Pains? Really?
I was more into the Cosby fam. And 21 Jump Street, The A-Team, and Scarecrow and Mrs King... You know, QUALITY TV.
Post a Comment