Some say the festive season begins when the Christmas adverts appear on TV. Others claim it starts when the first selection box mysteriously appears in the office kitchen. In reality, we all know Christmas truly begins when the entire office collectively decides that anything due after the 10th of December is officially “a January problem.” And by mid-December, the only things moving at full speed are the snack consumption and the Amazon delivery driver.

Meetings, but Make Them Festive

Someone always schedules a meeting and tries to share slides they’ve clearly worked very hard on, while the rest of the attendees nod politely, pretending they can see anything through the glare of the tinsel draped around the large TV in the office that hasn’t been used since the Euros. By this stage, everyone’s attention span is shorter than the life expectancy of a chocolate in the Celebrations tub.

The Out-of-Office Olympics

Perhaps the strongest sign that the office has officially powered down for Christmas is the explosion of out-of-office replies.

At first, they’re sensible: “I am currently on annual leave and will respond to your email on my return.”

But as the days go on, the creativity escalates:

“I am currently away from my desk, my laptop, and my will to respond to non-urgent emails until January.”

Or the classic:

“I have limited access to email.”

Which we all know roughly translates to:

“I saw your email, but I’m currently eating my body weight in cheese and pretending I don’t own a laptop.”

By the final week before Christmas, every email you send bounces back with a cheerful automated brush-off. You start to feel like the only person still working, even though you yourself have been ‘researching gift ideas’ online for the past three hours.

The Secret Santa Soap Opera

No Christmas office wind-down would be complete without the annual Secret Santa extravaganza. It always begins with good intentions: a reasonable budget, a shared spreadsheet of names or the use of that online platform.

Then chaos.

Someone inevitably forgets to buy a gift and ends up panic-buying novelty socks and one of those knitted caps with a torch sewn into the front from the petrol station on the way to work. Another person dramatically overshoots the budget, making everyone else’s offerings look embarrassingly feeble. There is always at least one gift that suggests the giver knows far too much about your personal life. You know who you are.

And somewhere in the mix, someone gets it spot on: the cosy hot water bottle, the favourite chocolate, or that quality bottle of wine.

Dress Code: Festive but Confused

The office dress code slowly disintegrates as Christmas approaches.  Out of nowhere, it becomes a sea of Christmas jumpers, flashing reindeer earrings, and at least one brave soul in a full elf costume.

Suddenly, it’s perfectly acceptable to attend a meeting wearing a sequinned jumper that plays Jingle Bells at the touch of a button.

The Snack Table That Never Ends

While productivity drops, snack consumption soars. The office kitchen transforms into a festive smorgasbord of tubs of chocolates, rogue mince pies, biscuits from a client, and the ever-present bowl of crisps that keeps mysteriously refilling itself. Is that really that hygienic?

You start the month determined to “be good this year,” but by the third tub of Quality Street, you’ve accepted that lunch is now a balanced mix of chocolate, cheese, and something vaguely resembling a sausage roll. The snack table becomes the true centre of office activity, and any actual meetings have to be around the diabetes enducing buffet.

Christmas Eve (or the Day Everyone Pretends to Work)

If your office is open on Christmas Eve, it’s widely acknowledged as the least productive day of the year. People come in, log on, and then proceed to:

• Check the status of their parcels every 15 minutes.
• Compare Christmas dinner plans.
• Argue about whether Die Hard is a Christmas film.

The Great Vanishing Act

Finally, the moment arrives. Laptops are closed. Desks are cleared (or at least made to look passable). Plants are watered just enough to survive the mysterious time warp known as the Christmas break.

One by one, people disappear with cries of “Merry Christmas!” and “See you next year!” as though they’re heading off on a six-month expedition rather than a week and a half of eating leftovers in their pyjamas.

And Breathe…

So, as the tinsel gathers dust and the office chairs sit empty, the great Christmas wind-down is complete. The projects can wait. The inbox will survive. The spreadsheets will still be there in January, patiently waiting for your allegedly “refreshed” self.

Until then, enjoy the chaos, embrace the snacks, and lean fully into the wonderfully unproductive joy of the pre- and post-Christmas office slowdown.

After all, if you can’t take your foot off the gas at Christmas, when can you?

Wishing a very merry Christmas to you and your family from all of us at Inflow Finance.

Another mince pie? Oh, go on then.