Posts Tagged ‘Santa’

Christmas in Prison

In Head Slave, humor, Office humor, work life balance on December 24, 2011 at 19:38

It is just you and two fellow humans breathing in the thin air of your surroundings. There is enough food to last you a week. There are also some random electric supplies that one could make into a radio or a sailboat, if one were Jimmy Neutron. But what will decide this arduous stay is will power more than physical resources.



Sounds like yet another season of Survivor? It could be. But for now, it is only a lonely Christmas in office. Some of you may have used up all your lifelines (leaves). Some simply don’t have much to stay home for. Others would not know what to do with themselves in the free time. Either way, you have to deep breathe through this one long day without going into a depressive episode.

Your Galley does provide a homely atmosphere complete with lights, a crib and a Santa (10 clams/hour). But instead of cheering you up, it only reminds you of what you are missing. Yes there are free rum cakes and ‘holiday music’, but that is the least your Enslaver can do for keeping you on the most special day of the year.

You want to walk out into a half day. But you can’t before you finish your assignment for the day: sending a Christmas greeting to all your customers, many of whom have only a casual acquaintance with English. Also you need to make the greeting ‘different’ as ordered in the two-liner from Head Slave’s fruity phone.

As greeting after greeting pours into your phone and on your computer, you just can’t imagine what a ‘different’ greeting would be like. You have already received the images Google search throws up in your inbox.

What if Santa was carrying a pitch fork or an i-Pad?…probably not in business communication. All you have written so far is: ‘Merry Christmas’ in different font colors. The spastic nursery rhymes and pay per hour Santa are not helping. Your concentration is further violated when Office Santa comes to your workstation and demands you vocalize a wish. You feel like a thousand little elves are dancing around your head urging you to punch Santa in the face.

With monumental effort, you don’t. You hit the send button and walk out. You realize that more than morals and dreams, what you have sold for a monthly salary is time. But at least you have this evening to salvage.

You wouldn’t wish a lonely holiday on your mortal enemy.


– J.