Dear Boss Lady,
I will not be making it to work today.
It’s unfortunate, because I really wanted to be there. I even went to bed extra early so I could get up rested and ready to go. I had already picked out my outfit. I even showered.
But the thing is, I’m worried about my safety. I have to walk. And the thing is, when it gets really cold, my right knee does this thing where it doesn’t bend like usual, so it is just really hard to get places. I look like a zombie in the apocalypse, and people tend to act like I’m a leper.
My left foot also has this tendency to just not move when it snows. It’s like I’m glued to the ground. I call it Cement Foot. It’s pretty serious; bodybuilders have been seen trying to move me, but I am a mountain. I know, I’ve made an appointment with my doctor to get it checked out.
Sometimes, I even think my eyes intuitively know it’s not safe to look outside, so they just won’t even open. I have no other choice but to trust my body under these circumstances. The best option is clearly staying home, wrapped up in my blankets, in my bed: snuggled, secure, and ultimately, safe.
During this state of snow emergency, it’s also important to know that I am without the essentials. I will be surviving for the next twenty-four hours on the most basic supply of human nourishment. I have only completely sanitary running water, a sweet potato, five frozen meals, a bag of broccoli, and a handful of Lean Cuisines.
That’s right. You heard me, I have no milk. No bottled water. No non-perishables. and I’m pretty sure I just heard a scream coming from Shaw’s; they probably have a storewide dairy and minestrone shortage.
I also have a reserve consisting of two handles of vodka, a fifth of tequila, and six bottles of wine. I just wish I was more prepared.
Also, the zipper on my coat broke, and I’m extremely prone to catching airborne illnesses, especially ones that are particularly elusive, or non-existent. I got hypothermia one time because I looked at a frozen carrot. So, I’m taking all the preventative measures to not only protect myself from any harmful winter sickness, but I’m also protecting the office.
Thank you so much for understanding. I’ll make sure my timesheet is filled out properly.
No need to respond to this letter. I’m going to assume you have felt the immense pain and grave danger of my situation and only want me to be safe. And for that, I thank you.
Please be advised that any pictures of me uploaded to any and all social media outlets within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours are strictly due to an unforeseeable technological timelapse. Those are actually from a different time it snowed. And I don’t drink during the daytime. Or during the week. Or ever, really.
My best regards,
PS – If you make it into the office and want to check a few emails for me, that would be the greatest service. If not, no problem, I guess I can do that when I get better. ::cough, cough::
PPS – I forgot to put socks on last night before my slumber, so my toes are pretty cold. I may be on crutches and need a few days to recover. More on that later.