So Michael Jackson has the flu and goes to the hospital. What's the deal? Out of Nyquil?
Look, I don't know how sick Mr. Jackson is, but the last time I had the bug, I didn't make a beeline for the emergency room.
And by the way, the last time I did go to the emergency room, I didn't leave my car parked out front. Why hasn't he been towed, by the way? Whatever. But again, that's just me.
Look, I'm going to sound very cruel here, but I have a real tough time with babies.
My view is unless you're on death's door, you show up for work, you show up for appointments, and yes, if you're dragged into court, you show up in court!
Don't get me wrong. People get sick and you really shouldn't make other people sick. But far too many people miss work because they say they're sick when they're not all that sick.
I used to know a guy who'd call out if he had a hangnail. He'd often telegraph that sick day to come too, with over-the-top animated coughing fits. You name it.
Another would detail for me a stomach virus blow-by-blow — every bodily dysfunction — on a voicemail. I don't need it.
My view is that you don't endear yourself to co-workers when you keep leaving those co-workers to do your work! So suck it up and get to work.
And for God's sake, don't make a federal case out of it. Well, maybe wrong choice of words there, Michael, but you get my point. Get a tissue and, for God's sake, get a life.
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