The answer is YES. All integrity is thrown out the window when you start
plotting your sudden ‘illness’ for work between the hours of midnight and five
am. No matter how tremendous your excuse is or how sly and sleuth you’re
being, you are ultimately neither. It initially starts as it always does for people
initially skiving off that first ‘sick day’ and that is with the obvious but easy go-to
option of ‘food poisoning’. You squint at your phone as you try to carefully word
out your text message to whom ever overrules you at work. Tongue stuck out
with sheer concentration, you know there are various hurdles to overcome.
-Composing a text message that isn’t incoherent.
At the time you almost commend your skilled writing abilities because you think the text is question has
been so craftily put together that you should almost be entitled to some kind of
award. You have debated with friends the best possible reason for feigning
illness in which you all unanimously agree it is best to give extra details of said
illness. This is both unnecessary and disgusting for the person who will receive
the text but it is too late as you have already expertly listed all the symptoms
possible with having some dodgy meat at your local curry house.
-The groggy phone-call in the morning.
Mandatory for anyone who decides to message their boss at 4.30am. ‘Michael’ they will say ‘Is it that bad you can’t
come in?’ There is the initial falter as you debate whether you can in fact soldier
in and look like the hero, but then you think better of it. It is then that you make
sure to emphasise just how weak, croaky and altogether pathetic you really are.
‘No boss, honestly I’ve never been like this before’ (lie) and just to ensure they
really know you’re ill ‘I’ve booked to see the Doctor later today’ (lie has now
been fully secured).
Where you both know you’re lying but there is nothing either of you
can do to protest your guilt, unless he or she has footage of you swinging your
foot-long subway sandwich around pretending you have the Don Juan of huge
penises whilst singing your own triumphant rendition of Peter Andre
‘Mysterious Girl’- a juxtaposition to your own current state, who is not so
Mwhaha I am a genius and I get the whole day in bed and
they are none the wiser…………..but are they none the wiser? Was there a hint of
sarcasm in his voice or am I being paranoid…shit…he knew…no he didn’t…he
did….not……….. know?…(and finally) I hope no one’s swopping their shit chair with
mine whilst I’m away!
-The Morning After.
Perhaps the worst stage of all because you now have to put
on an Oscar worthy performance to all your colleagues, that you have spent the
previous day bed bound. This is done with small measures of consideration. You
factor in the slightly shaky voice, the lack of interest in food and the occasional
(but oh so subtle) gag reflex.
-A winning performance.
When you know you have gone for gold and even the
lady at reception asks whether you’re ok. You soldier on until 6pm where its
time to retire the act. Its only as you leave the office you meet eyes with the big
boss ‘I hear they make those curries awfully strong at Gordon’s Wine Bar’
And you think. Fuck. He knows.