Last Christmas

Back at work today, and I must warn you that this post will not be brimming with joy.
When you work in pension administration, it is a sad fact that the first day back after Christmas will have the phones ringing off the hook. Why? Because a lot of elderly people die over Christmas and New Year (I did warn you about the lack of joy….). I think it’s because they try to hold on for one last Christmas.
The day started off pretty badly for me when I was bitchslapped by a cat bowl, so I was feeling a bit sorry for myself when I got into work. By half past nine, I had checked 26 voicemail messages and spoken to 3 crying widows. At that point, I had what I like to call a “cubicle cry”. You know the ones: where you go to the loos, lock yourself in the furthest cubicle and have a good old sob.
After 5 minutes, a fair few tissues and an unrecoverable loss of mascara, I pulled myself together. Alright, I’m having a crap day, but that is nothing compared to the bereaved families, whose loss is made all the worse for it being at Christmas.
So, after duly telling myself off, I decided to stop being such a mope and get the hell on with it. The rest of the day was one of the most productive I have had in yonks. Amazing what a good old cubicle cry and a talk to yourself can do!

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