Excuses to miss work

>From the Sunday, April 14, 1994 edition of the
Washington Post — a contest was held in which
readers were asked to come up with excuses to
miss a day of work.

==================================

If it is all the same to you I won’t be coming in to
work. The voices told me to clean all the guns
today.

When I got up this morning I took two Ex-Lax in
addition to my Prozac. I can’t get off the john,
but I feel good about it.

I set half the clocks in my house ahead an hour
and the other half back an hour Saturday and
spent 18 hours in some kind of space-time
continuum loop, reliving Sunday (right up until
the explosion). I was able to exit the loop only
by reversing the polarity of the power source
exactly e*log(pi) clocks in the house while
simultaneously rapping my dog on the snout
with a rolled up Times. Accordingly, I will be in
late, or early.

My stigmata’s acting up.

I can’t come in to work today because I’ll be
stalking my previous boss, who fired me for not
showing up for work. OK?

I have a rare case of 48-hour projectile leprosy,
but I know we have that deadline to meet…

I am stuck in the blood pressure machine down
at the Food Giant.

Yes, I seem to have contracted some
attention-deficit disorder and, hey, how about
them Skins, huh? So, I won’t be able to, yes,
could I help you? No, no, I’ll be sticking with
Sprint, but thank you for calling.

Constipation has made me a walking time
bomb.

I just found out that I was switched at birth.
Legally, I shouldn’t come to work knowing my
employee records may now contain false
information.

The psychiatrist said it was an excellent
session. He even gave me this jaw restraint so I
won’t bite things when I am startled.

The dog ate my car keys. We’re going to
hitchhike to the vet.

I prefer to remain an enigma.

My mother-in-law has come back as one of the
Undead and we must track her to her coffin to
drive a stake through her heart and give her
eternal peace. One day should do it.

I can’t come to work today because the EPA
has determined that my house is completely
surrounded by wetlands and I have to arrange
for helicopter transportation.

I am converting my calendar from Julian to
Gregorian.

I am extremely sensitive to a rise in the interest
rates.

My wife makes more money than I do, so I have
to stay at home with our sick son.

I refuse to travel to my job in the District until
there is a commuter tax. I insist on paying my
fair share.

I’m feeling a little disgruntled this morning. You
want I should come in?

I can’t come in because the deadline is Monday
and so far I only have seven different fun things
to do with a barrel of snot.

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