"Booked I am. Booked solid. In fact, I might die under the pressure if I book one more thing into this already overbooked schedule!"
Speaking of dying... when I head to the afterlife, I won't even try to plead my case. I'll be sent directly to the lying land of liars and there I shall rest for all eternity.

In order to play hooky from a demanding job you must plot the great escape days ahead of time. Begin with a slight cough. A quieter than usual voice.

Shiver when you're sitting near one of the powers that be.
They'll never willingly give you a day off but they feel extra special if they're the first ones to notice you're under the weather.
That's when they happily tell you to take the day off. After all, if you're contagious, you might infect them, which could subsequently ruin their golf game!
Now that I'm self-employed I need to be even more creative. An overbooked calendar is often the culprit. (If you take this approach, be sure to sound genuinely disappointed that you cannot participate in another snooze of a conference call.)
Once I snowed everybody who pays my bills, Wunx and I wasted the better part of our afternoon at the Blue Plate Diner.

Alstroemeria prefers cool temps, blooms poorly if she's too hot.
After we left the Diner, we mosied over to my most favorite inappropriately named paradise: Cactus and Tropicals. (I've never bought a cactus there. But I have gone deep into debt on the brightly blooming flowers that overshadow those spiny desert plants.)
That's where I found Ms. Alstroemeria. On the sale table, no less!

3 comments:
I think you've used that excuse on me a time or two :) - Anne
ha-i was going to say-was it Wunx? Did you say hi for me?
Geeze Kate, an afterlife in the lying land of liars sounds pretty horrific. Imagine sharing eternity with all of those politicians and weather forecasters. Makes me shudder.
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