We started Eat Week at the office. This is a company tradition of dubious value. It begins with an email from Janice, coordinator of all things edible and part time receptionist. The email outlines the dates and times as well as the opportunities for involvement. Many employees bring food items that they've made and others, known collectively as the Rat Pack, donate money to a fund that buys sloppy joes or Subway sandwiches. The conference room, typically reserved for large meetings and Executive Management Committee reviews becomes a buffet. The Crock Pots and the chip bags and the platters cover the table. Somebody makes cheese dip. Somebody makes those little white chocolate covered haystacks of pretzels. Somebody makes a bundt cake, which lasts only an hour or so. All in all, it's a glutton's dreamland and a dieter's nightmare. Somehow, this smorgasboard is supposed to make us happier employees. By some Christmas-time miracle we're supposed to be transported by the banquet. It never happens. By 11:00am we're all suffering from the crash that follows a sugar rush or we're full of carbohydrates and cheese dip and we can't keep our eyes open. There's no Christmas magic here. Only a heavy feeling in our stomachs and an awareness that we are stupid enough to eat anything that's put in front of us, regardless of nutritional value or metabolic need. We're sheep in desparate need of a shepherd.
Oh yeah... that's what Christmas is really about anyway. Joy to the world! Our shepherd has come.
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