I feel a bit sick ...

      Working for a living would be okay if you just didn't actually have to go to work. You know what I mean: the sun is shining, love is in the air, songs are being sung, Republicans are accepting illegal campaign contributions, Democrats are lying, babies are being born, and there you sit at work, contributing nothing to the great and unending process of life.
      You could call in sick. Don't look so shocked. We're all adults here and can handle such subject matter. Don't say you haven't considered it. All of us have.
      In high school, I never skipped class. I was one of those revolting students who enjoyed learning, taking notes, cleaning the room and -- I shudder to mention this -- running small personal errands for the teacher. I know, I know, but everyone has a shameful secret. That I was a teacher's pet just happens to be mine. So I was in class whenever there was class.
      Of course, in my high school, you had to go somewhere. You couldn't stay in the halls because it was dangerous. During the energy crisis (Remember that? OPEC?) my school came up with the dark idea of turning off the hall lights to conserve electricity. Some students believed it was because the teachers enjoyed seeing us stumble into walls. I didn't believe it even though the laughter from the teachers' lounge was suspicious. But you heard that a lot, particularly after the monthly locker search for marijuana. Our school board was proud that none was ever found.
      Unfortunately, the halls had no other lighting. Walking to class was an adventure as you fought off bats, discovered lost cities inhabited by apes, and out-smarted the vicious fungus on the water fountain that was known to leer at Melinda, the head cheerleader.
      Ah, Melinda ...
      Wait, where was I? Oh, yes, skipping class. I didn't do it. And I don't skip work. For one thing, my creditors are particular about being paid. For another, my parents imposed a strong work ethic that has always been a bane to my lazy nature. But they also gave me incredible intelligence, good looks and awesome humility so I shouldn't complain.
      I sit there at work, day after day, moving paper from pile A to pile B to pile C. On an exciting day, I sometimes move paper from pile A to pile C, skipping B completely. Once I had a pile D, but you can't expect that kind of thrill all the time.
      A former secretary of mine, however, was a master of calling in sick. She missed work for: stomach trouble, female problems, flu, sprained ankle, summer cold, fall fever, winter cold, spring allergies, infected toenail, rash, boils, etc. I fully expected her to have leprosy and miss work because a limb dropped off. Our boss thought of firing her, but she needed to come to work so that he could tell her. I've wondered if she had another job.
      From observing her, I can pass on these tips if you choose to call in sick.
      Stomach trouble works as a great excuse. It is vague enough that no one will expect a lot of medical terms, but also easy for you to give disgusting details if you have to. Our secretary was so talented at description that I saw her make strong men flinch and proud women cry.
      Choose a day on which no projects are due. Otherwise, you may make your boss angry enough that she gives you plenty of time to be sick at home.
      Make sure that you have a doctor that knows you. If a note is required, you can go to him and claim to have stomach troubles. He'll take your temp, prescribe some sugar pills and write you a note. Two weeks later you will receive a bill for four thousand dollars.
      Take off on sunny days and rainy days so that there is no pattern. This may mean that you have to take off days when you really don't want to, but you will just have to suffer ... or something like that.
      When you return to work, act as if you're grateful to be back, like you actually were sick and not just watching soap operas and game shows and eating chocolates. Do this well and you will even get sympathy, grudging perhaps but sympathy none the less.
      Trust me, it worked for her.

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