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Why The Christmas Party Fills Me With Dread
And it’s not because I’m a Scrooge
It’s that time of the year when Christmas parties are being planned.
Some people will be excited by the prospect of knocking off early and making the most of the free wine, but others are frankly dreading it.
Like many people, I’m not good at small talk.
My brain often works too slowly in these situations, which means that I can’t think of the things to say quickly enough, and by the time I have, it’s often too late. This inevitably leads to periods of silence, even with people I spend forty hours a week alongside.
But the fact that I’m rubbish at small talk means that if you stick me in a room full of work colleagues with a bottle of beer in my hand and ask me to mingle, I’ll struggle and start working out at what time I might be able to sneak away to the safety of the train home.
None of this is a reflection on my work colleagues. Most of them over my career have been nice, with the odd exception.
Note: if I’ve worked with you before then I’m obviously not talking about you. I’m talking about someone else.
It’s also not a reflection of how friendly I am. I like people and can happily chat with the small collection of folk that I’m…
