Rough Sunday

Work was a nightmare yesterday. I had a hangover and every time I walked past the bakery or deli counter the smell of cooking food was making me want to hurl. Normally I love the smell of chickens being cooked, but when you’ve got an 8-pack of Stella in your stomach that is trying to leap up into your throat it’s the worst smell you can imagine.
At one point Ginger Graham said “Are you ok? You look very pale” I just said I was feeling a bit rough and thought I might be getting a cold. “Well don’t push it” he said “If you think it might be a virus we’d rather you stayed at home”
So now I’m deciding whether to call him and say it’s flu, or go in. If I call in sick, at least he saw me looking rough yesterday so he won’t think I’m faking it. Plus, if I do go in today, doesn’t it make obvious that yesterday was just a hangover? I’m not due in until lunchtime anyway, so I’ll probably go and say I still feel a bit rough and earn some ‘martyr points.’ Graham’s big bugbear is managers who take lots of time off with minor ailments rather than go in and work, so I’ll go up even higher in his estimations.

RC 27-2-12