Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Calling in sick to work.

In AmeriCorps we get 10 sick days and 10 vacation days. I plan on using my ten vacation days to get home for Christmas, so I have to use sick days when I want to skip work. This morning was one of those days.

But I digress. I woke up this morning feeling terrible, pushed snooze on my alarm, and fell back asleep debating if I should call in fake-sick to work. When I woke later, in a house I am house sitting for (illegal in AmeriCorps to earn any extra money, so this was already a big no-no) I went to the kitchen to make my tea, and found a TON of people. Not four or five... more like hundreds. Drinking. Partying. Trashing the house. Apparently they were all there by invitation from a bunch of my Portland friends (hi guys!).

I quickly ran back to my room to get dressed and grab my phone - I had to call in to work, you see - and found the first of many house party games. This one was called quilting, and the object was to dip your feet/high heels/muddy boots in red paint, then jump on various beds throughout the house to see who can make the prettiest quilt. I was livid.

I ran to the kitchen to find my friends again and a game of MASH had broken out. This was not the MASH we played as kids, oh no. That would have been fine. This game involved dumping an ant farm on the kitchen floor and seeing how many you could mash with a broom before they crawled to infest the house.

Oh sorry - I know I said hundreds of people, but let me put this party a bit more in perspective for you. Will Smith was in attendance and NOBODY cared. He was in the living room watching people "bull fight" with the taxidermied elk and buffalo wall decorations (it's Montana. Those are popular decorations).

As I carried several red paint-covered quilts upstairs to the laundry, spraying every inch of the house in raid, and yelling at guests it hit me. I still hadn't called into work. I quickly dialed the number and began in on my excuse.

Me: (sounding miserable) Hi. It's Alyssa. I have a migrane so I won't be coming into work today.
My mom: (jokingly) I would have a migrane too, if I was at that party. Oh my gosh. You aren't seriously trying to call into work with that excuse, are you? Where are you?
Me: Damn Damn Damn. I know. I know. Sorry. I will call you later.

I went through an endless maze of closets and rooms looking for the laundry, frantically thinking of a better excuse for calling in to work. "Personal Day" was sounding more and more like the winner as I opened room after room of people tearing this house apart. I finally found the washer - being blocked by someone's rabid dog. I threw the blankets at the dog and began to run around frantically asking people to leave. It took forever, but finally the house was empty. Even Will Smith left. I surveyed the damage on the house - millions of dollars.

I crawled back into my bed, exhausted and fell asleep. When I woke up I realized I still hadn't called in to work. And wait... is this MY bed? Am I in MY house? IS THAT THE TIME!? I quickly called work - running late even now that I was out of my dream world - and came up with a logical excuse. "Hi... ummm... it's me... Alyssa. I,uh, slept through my alarm. haha. I mean. I am on my way." Eloquent, I know.

I figured a day at my desk, shoved in a corner, speaking to nobody would be FAR better than going back to that dream house and trying to pry those quilts from the rabid dog I gave them to.

1 comment:

  1. Haha this post makes me miss you for so many reasons. It seriously have the best dreams EVER.