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Secret Satan
Does anybody else loathe the idea of an office “Secret Santa” as much as I (and, as it turns out, the other members of my team) do?
I find the whole concept faintly nauseating. There’s just something slightly “you will do this, you will enjoy it or you will be shot” about it all which makes me want to fold my arms, stamp my feet and go “fire away”.
I mean, I’ve bought mine (and by God it’s hard to find something imaginative under ?Ǭ£5 isn’t it?) and entered it, but there’s just a part of me that wishes any attempts at forced corporate jollity were banned by law.
Or perhaps I’m just being churlish. To be honest I’m all 2007-d out now. The last few weeks have been a whirl of struggling to extract present ideas, tracking them down, buying them, wrapping the fuckers (I really really hate wrapping presents), deciding who gets cards and who doesn’t, attending – and giving a reading at – a funeral (an interestingly non-Christmassy aside), developing exczema for the first time in 30 years (which was a shock I’ll tell you), training clients, writing more pub quiz questions than I would have cared for, finally getting round to writing the Christmas cards out, and traveling to Canterbury and back (twice).
Bugger presents and festivities, for crying out loud. The only thing I’m really looking forward to next week is a couple of days off and the Doctor Who special.
Everything else can go hang.
Posted on December 18, 2007 | Filed Under My So-Called Life
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