December 14th, 2006

office party guilt

One of the owners, the one who I mainly work for, is out sick today and won’t be coming to the Christmas party.

Two of the sales people are out sick as well.

And Mickey, the guy who sits up here with me, hasn’t shown up today at all.

Tomorrow, two-thirds of the office is taking the day off, presumably to recuperate from whatever they do tonight at the party.

I drive three hours to and from work every day, and I wasn’t planning to attend this party. Go, and then get home around what, 10? 11? Then get up at 7AM tomorrow to drive back up here to work? No thanks.

But they’re all trying to guilt me, with sad eyes and extended lower lips. “Don’t you want to be one of us?” they ask me. “We hardly ever see you, since you’re upstairs [thank the dear, dear sweet Lord] and we want to get to know you better.”

And did I mention… I somehow signed a contract that says we have a two-drink minimum maximum at office functions and conferences paid for by the company?

Me, an entire gaggle of sales people, and only TWO drinks?

What are they crazy?

I’m now up here trying to make myself get a cold… but it’s 50 degrees outside and there isn’t any wind.

Argh.