Once upon a time, office workers would clamber onto the photocopier after a few sherries to capture their posterior for posterity. Christmas wasn’t Christmas without some kind of cringeworthy team calamity. Thankfully, antics like this have been blasted into yuletide oblivion, thanks to the new normal of working from home. Nowadays you’re lucky to be in the same room as a photocopier, let alone park your backside on one in the name of enforced ‘fun’.
Yep. There’s only three weeks left until the ‘big one’. Tinsel times are here again folks! The shops are rammed, everyone’s coughing and your socialising prowess is about to peak in the run up to the 25 December. You need to keep your cool and power through the last few days of hard toil until you can spend your hard-earned annual leave in a carbohydrate coma. Beige food is mandatory on the savoury spectrum, give yourself a health pass and mainline the mini quiches, vol-au-vents and breadsticks. Sweet stuff needs no introduction, napkin or excuse – it’s Ferrero Rocher for breakfast, Quality Street for tea, and any excuse for a Baileys.
You’ve got it all to look forward to – once you’ve navigated the couple’s karaoke, been pickpocketed at the Christmas Market and accidentally spilled mulled wine down your favourite shirt. Think of it like ‘Tough Mudder’ and get pumped for the mistletoe infused human endurance test. Reboot the festive muscle memory with a disastrous Secret Santa gift (stay on budget) and a lunchtime munch on a limp Pret turkey & stuffing sarnie, all washed down with a glug of mild panic about how many prezzies you’ve still got left to buy.
As the National Grid groans under the strain of a billion fairy lights and shoulders stiffen at the thought of three days indoors with the in-laws, the country feels a collective cocktail of dread and delight. Television marathons, arguments about the washing up, visits from long-lost family members and the annual game of Monopoly – thankfully it’s only once a year. And don’t even get me started on fruitcake! Whose idea was that?
I think I’m the only one who actually wants socks for Christmas, along with a bunch of decent tea-towels and a sleeve of 2-fingered KitKats. A woman with simple pleasures, I’m a grinch when it comes to other people’s ‘traditions’ – it’s the same as seeing photos of other people’s Sunday roasts on Instagram and thinking, ‘Christ! I’m glad I don’t live in THAT house!’. Want to hear my advice for this one? Bail on the Christmas jumpers (that acrylic knit is going straight to landfill) and let grudges fall to the wayside for a week or two. If they managed it for the spine tingling 1914 Christmas day truce during WW1, you could definitely forgive a misdemeanour or two.
Pull a cracker, immerse yourself in the sparkle and hell! Maybe even enjoy the office party. Christmas is for making memories. Deck the halls, or deck your boss? We’ll let you decide.
