Now you see me, now you don’t

Off sick yesterday hence the lack of blog. I’m starting to wonder if being in bed all day with crippling stomach pain and frequent trips to the loo still wins over being in this place for the day. I might try and get food poisoning every Sunday night at this rate.

Friday’s escape from Alcatraz was going fine until CJ and Moody piped up. I had my things all packed up, the computer shut down and my coat under my arm. Harley sits a couple of rows back from me behind a screen so if I could get up and walk out with some silent waves goodbye then chances are he wouldn’t suss until at least 4.15. But first I have to run the gauntlet of freaks. I sit at the end of a row by the window, I quite like where I sit as I’m tucked away and any approaching management is normally picked up on so the ‘Boss Key’ can be implemented (Alt and the Tab key – life saver) but it does mean I have to pass 4 other people to go anywhere. These 4 people are CJ, Moody, Andre and another guy who I haven’t talked about yet, mainly because he is a normal and nothing to write home about.

So, I’m standing slowly with bag on shoulder and coat in arm. I make eye contact with Gunner and Ginger and being the sensible and normal work colleagues they are they understand I am leaving early, sneaking out, making a run for it and so they mouth ‘goodbye’ and wave at me. I start to walk past CJ and Andre, not saying anything (normally I would be polite as to say ta ta, I wasn’t dragged up you know) in order to stay under my cloak of invisibility but as I hit Moody’s desk CJ turns and says “oh, bye, have a good weekend!” at the top of her voice. I turn and smile, my eyes throwing daggers and telling her subliminally to shut the fuck up but it’s too late…. Andre pipes up too, although in her defense in a nice and quiet fashion but then as Moody cottons on I hear “oh going part time are we?!” over my shoulder as I start sprinting for the door. He’s only joking of course and chuckling away to himself so I turn and say “yep!” and then before anyone else can throw their oar in sprint for the exit. As I go I can see Gunner and Ginger throwing up their arms in despair and mouthing silent obscenities at CJ through the partition – they understand my pain.

Throughout all of this I didn’t dare look over at Harley’s desk; I have no idea if he clocked me and if he did whether he gave two shits about it. I’ve heard nothing back from Gunner so I’m assuming nothing was said. Home scott free, in the bar by 4.30pm – get in.

In a twisted way I do worry that my absence from this place isn’t missed maybe as much as it should be. Take yesterday for example when I was off sick. I rang Gunner to say I wouldn’t be in and it turns out Moon Monkey or Harley probably aren’t in anyway so he says to chill and stay home and rest up. This is a good thing on a sick day as it means what the management don’t know can’t hurt them and my sick record stays low. I’m not one for taking sick days, I’ll normally struggle in unless I’m strapped to the toilet through no choice of my own or highly infectious (I’m not that selfish – “oh I can’t possibly take time off work, I’ll struggle in and just cough my germs over everyone else”, yeah thanks) and I like to save my sick days for days I’m not sick. You know, those days when you just can’t be arsed or fancy a trip to Thorpe Park.

So now Harley is in today, no idea I was off yesterday and by now long forgotten my early exit on Friday afternoon. No blemish on my record. But then no one else has really noticed I’ve been off, a couple of people asking how I am feeling, the usual suspects really i.e. the normals. And Moody is just glad I’m back so he can give me work to do and stop having kittens because there’s someone back in the office to do his photocopying for him. Apart from that it seems my vacant seat yesterday went unnoticed and all that important work I had to do yesterday (cough, cough) could wait after all. This is a double edged sword but I think I’ll take invisibility over high demand in this place any day.