This SFist is not writing from our desk, as we usually do -- we are writing from home, where we sit propped up by pillows, chugging Airborne, and blowing our nose every 15 seconds. That's right, we're sick. And we're pissed.

Over the last week or so, so many people in our office have been wandering around like the undead that you'd think we worked at Wolfram and Hart. "How are you doing?" we ask our colleagues, because that's what you do. "Oh, I'm really sick." They reply, as we try to discreetly inch away. If you're sick, go home!*

Where we work (and we assume that this is true for many of you out there), we are not performing rocket surgery. Neither the world nor our industry nor our company will suffer if you stay home and get better. In fact, it will be improved, because then we will not be sick, either. So why do sick and contagious people keep coming to work and infecting the rest of us? We just don't get it. It seems both grandiose ("oh, work can't manage without me") and flat-out selfish.