I am not feeling well. You've been fairly quiet all this week, and I appreciate that, because all week I've been feeling rotten. I've told you that I'm still feeling pretty awful today, I just don't have the PTO to take another day off.
Please to be buggering off now. When I'm sick, I'm about the crankiest and most anti-social Stephie there is. Thus, I don't need you poking your head over the cubicle wall every five seconds with some random-ass question or comment about the state of your life (consisting of your self-proclaimed shopaholism and who you're wanting to date this week). I chatted with Joseph a bit, it's true. That's mostly because he was suggesting I either throw up or faint into his arms in front of our supervisor, so as to convince said supervisor to send me home. Then he left me alone (letting me know the offer was still open, should it come to that). You, on the other hand? Not so much.
So, again, please to be buggering off now.