Wait until next year

Somebody has decorated my desk at work. Well, they have attached a length of tinsel to my divider with a bulldog clip. 

It feels like an intrusion. I’m tempted to call up HR, pretend I’m a member of an obscure religious sect who is deeply offended by Christmas tat and to explain that only a swift compensation payout will resolve the matter. I’m not sure I’d get away with that though.

And I do appreciate the half-hearted nature of it. It is better than proper office decorations. As much as I can admire people who manage to get away with mucking about for hours with baubles and fairy lights on work time, it all still feels a little too much like Organised Fun, which is, of course, the worst kind of fun.

There’s a certain honesty in my bulldog-clipped tinsel. It suits me.