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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
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. Okay?
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
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 think 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.