The psychological benefits of indulging in a Yuletide blow-out are well documented, and whilst they probably don’t counter-balance the physical harm you do to your physical being by consuming enough alcohol and fine food to knock out a donkey, it can be near impossible to turn down the annual invitation without incurring the derision and profound disappointment of the people you toil with all year round. Neither is politely declining the annual, festive shindig straightforward. If you get your excuse in too early (e.g. “Sorry, I can’t make that date. I’m taking my kids to the pantomime.” Or the classic: “I’m washing my hair/helping my wife wash her hair that night.” Or the outrageous: “That’s the same date as my Mum’s exhibition at the Tate Gallery and I’ve promised I’ll attend and help hand out nibbles and flutes.”), there’s always the risk that your team will move the date to accommodate you.

 

And if they do that, you’ll have to go. But then if you wait until hours before the actual event and cry off with a hastily concocted fob-story (e.g. “I think I’m getting a migraine. Yep, lights a-popping, time I was a-hopping.” Or the classic, “My car/van’s broken down.” Or the outrageous, “I’ve been abducted by aliens.”) you’ll almost certainly get away with it, but you won’t be fooling anybody. However plausible your excuse may be, you’ll be letting your buddies down, and that’s never a good idea. The cumulative effects of declining invitations can damage your career and your friendships, so, better to just resign yourself to having a wild time and paying the piper on the morrow. One of Mike Leigh’s more colourful movie characters, Johnny Boy (‘Naked’ 1991) stated that... ‘resolve is never stronger than on the morning after the night it was never weaker’. Wise words indeed, if a little questionable, considering some of Johnny Boy’s life choices. But maybe something to aspire to? I’ve witnessed many work colleagues roll out the, “I’m going to start off on mineral water and try to pace myself and not get too hammered,” line, only to be the last one in the bar, slinging back the single malts or quadruple vodkas like they’re some kind of magical health tonic.

 

Christmas partying gets easier as you get older. Your constitution becomes more robust and you can find yourself feeling sober (despite all the beer and sparkling wine you’ve imbibed) as the evening draws to a close, allowing you to enjoy the drunken antics of your younger colleagues, staking their claim on the dancefloor and busting overly ambitious dance moves, colliding into drained glass-collectors, swinging from the chandeliers, and so on. I understand why the prospect of getting thoroughly sloshed with the same people you spend your year working alongside can be a little daunting, but it’s much easier to just go along with things for the sake of peace and harmony. You’re all in the same boat, after all. Enjoyment is infectious, so no matter how grumpy you feel as you dig into your amuse-bouche, you’ll be laughing like a drain by the time the talk turns to nightclubs and/or kebabs. The Cherokee have a proverb that goes: ‘Never give too much of yesterday to today’. But in the case of the annual work’s Christmas bash you could amend that to: ‘Never give too much of tomorrow to tonight’.

 

Our bodies have remarkable powers of recovery and it’s worth putting them to the test every once in a while.

A Merry Christmas to you all... xx