It seems that everyone is having their work Christmas parties this week. Love them or hate them, it’s amazing how quickly the experience changes when you have a child.
Previously, a festive office bash would probably have gone as follows: A bit of booze. Too much food. A bit more booze. Too much flirting with the office bike. A bit more booze. On to the next pub. Inane talk about boobs. A bit more booze. An-un-informed debate about pseudo-political topics. A bit more booze. Angry call from girlfriend asking when you might be thinking of coming home. A bit more booze. Feel a bit queasy. A bit more booze. Closing time. Stumble out of pub. Hug people you wouldn’t usually even shake hands with. Eat a filthy kebab. Stumble home. Giggle. Sleep on floor.
Now, it’s probably more like this: Arrive at pub. Check phone to make sure that everything is alright at home. Have a quick sip of wine. Talk about babies with dullest lady in the office and find youself dragged in to a debate about domestic care arrangements with a senior manager you have no interest in talking to. Have another quick glass of wine. Check phone to make sure everything’s alright at home. Joke about the fact that you are on day release from home. Think that it’s all slightly boring and that you would quite like to go home. Watch the younger people in the office get more drunk and more flirtacious to the point where you feel uncomfortable. Leave early – just at the point where the normally reserved girl from accounts is starting her tabletop dancing routine. Think in your head that you’re a little bit sadder than you were last year. Smile because you don’t really care.
