Someone has a hangover (but it's not me, I swear).
For every Thirsty-Thursday-gone-wrong. At least I took responsibility for my actions! Kind of. (It wasn't me.)
See you next month...
If I come into work today (or for the rest of the week), I might pass out at my desk. You don’t want a mess on your hands, and I don’t want it on my nice pants.
Dear noisy co-worker...
I didn’t have to courteous and send an email—I thought about snatching your phone and shattering the screen. You're welcome.
I've got a bad case of the Mondays.
Is Mondayitis on WebMD? Symptoms include: lethargy, inability to get out of bed, and Saturday night nostalgia.
I don't want to be an outfit repeater.
Read the fine print in your company dress code: no outfit repetition. And absolutely no leggings as pants.
I have an important question.
Trick question. They were so on a break. Any other opinion is irrelevant and should result in termination.
Taking sick leave, kthxbye.
Does your co-worker’s lunch smell like a possum took its final breath in his Tupperware? Mine does.
If you need me, I'll be in my igloo.
Just let me stay in bed! I’m afraid to open my car door; the handle might snap off.
Blame my cat.
Seriously, I’m so close to my next hundred followers. Help my kitty become the new Grumpy Cat!
I ran into a little car trouble...
You want to know how I sent this email with severe finger burns? Um…voice-to-text technology??