Surviving the Office Holiday Party

Step 1: Commit. Commit to making an appearance. Resolve that although you literally have nothing to wear, and although you are notoriously uncomfortable in these situations, you will make your best effort to be there. Because your mother, good friend, and sort of trusted coworker all said you should go. Because you are, in fact, a little curious about the way some of your coworkers socialize outside of the office. Because maybe, just maybe, this could be fun.

Step 2: Prepare. Prepare to go it alone. Because even your most trusted companion is more than a little flaky. Which is fine; 2015 has been a table for one. It only makes sense to close out the year the way in which you started: on your own.

Step 3: Plan. As the afternoon approaches, let your excitement bubble. You haven’t dressed up in so long. Create a flawless plan to dash home, grab your car from the commuter lot, get dressed, and get to the party. Plot every step, from the office elevator to Arlington Ridge Road. Build a color palette for your limited makeup skills. Consider the shoes, the dress, everything.

Step 4: Allow. You have five minutes. Allow yourself to feel gorgeous, because you are. Take in the dress, your eyelashes, your red lips. Allow yourself some pretzels too. You’re pretty hungry.

Step 4: Turn. Turn the music off. Turn the car around. Head home. It’s after 8:00. The party ends at 9:00. After inching up 95 for over an hour, realize that, though you’ve executed Operation Office Party with perfection, unexpected circumstances have still foiled your plans. There will be no party for you tonight.

Step 5: Resolve. Pander to your every desire for the evening. Because defeat feels the same whether you charge it to circumstance or to your own efforts, and you need something to take the angry edge off of tonight. Avoid sharp objects and standing water. Go for the Barefoot moscato and Annie’s organic berry patch fruit snacks. Scourge the fridge for your family’s leftovers. Note that failure tastes better with friend rice. Retreat to your bedroom.

Lie down. Your arm hurts and you’re too tired for Netflix.

Consider that nothing ever goes right in your life. (Roll your eyes at yourself for even thinking something so stupid.) Let the times you’ve been stood up, let down, and shut out parade through your mind. Laugh at how, just hours ago, you wondered how you would survive the office holiday party. Let the bitterness fall away with humor and realize that you did it. You survived the office party the way you will survive everything else in life. By trying. By failing. By praying. By retreating. By recharging. By resolving.

Remember that there is work to do tomorrow.  Selfless work. Put your favorite Glenn Lewis song on repeat and try not to forget your way home.