Our accountant didn’t show up for work today, and chose to send our Vice President a multi-paragraph text message detailing his overnight struggle and continued epic battle with severe mudbutt. Together we read about how he suspects food poisoning, keeps running to the toilet, etc., etc. How come every time someone at my work needs a day off, they say it is diarrhea? That bitch is at Six Flags. This is what happens when your company enforces a strict no vacation for your first year of employment policy.
I have never heard of a company except for mine that makes employees show up every day for the first year. Internment camps, maybe. It seems worse than it is since we only close for two days a year. Happy 249 days of cube dwelling in 2013, fellow co-workers! It was even worse in 2011 (my first year here), since Christmas and New Year’s were both on the weekend. Sorry, employees who want to spend the holidays with family. It is your fault for working for Italian people who only moved here to cash in on the absurdly high American work ethic (read: ability to withstand sitting in a chair for extended periods of time, for minimal pay and no insurance).
On top of giving us all the horrible mental picture of his little stick man body and disproportionately large head on the toilet, he signed his name at the end of the text message. SIGNED. The. Text. Message. Why is everyone so weird around here?