I spent many a blog moaning about my work-shy colleagues but admit to pulling a sickie today.

A friend was crowing with laughter about it this evening pointing out – unknown to me – that it was a Bank Holiday weekend and I had played the trump card of the hardened skiver. A four day doss fest.

I feel so guilty that I’m going into work tomorrow throwing in the opportunistic cough here and there to cover my tracks.

Meanwhile, somewhere on a sofa in Essex, the loafer is preparing his next excuse for not coming in.

 

The loafer has upped his game of slippery subterfuge by pulling a sickie to have an extra day preparing for an internal job interview.

A possible promotion! Who said being an idler doesn’t pay as long as you grunt in the right intervals and play the nodding dog?

Pull this one off he’ll be challenging Olivier for title of Britain’s greatest actor. He sails on negating the small matter that he’s a) never here and b) does the minimum amount of work.

I sense the work of the Sith behind this, young padawans. Be wary. Darth Sloth is about to emerge from the shadows.

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