By John Carney
“What are your plans for Thanksgiving?”
“Don’t your folks live in the city?”
Those are some of the worst questions a junior staffer at an investment bank can hear from his managing director. It means that there’s work to be done and the bank is scrambling to find bodies who can run spreadsheets.
The only wise response is to lie. Never let them know you will be anywhere near the office on a holiday. Tell them your family always celebrates in Aspen or something. Or, better, on an island in Maine with no electricity, cell phone access or internet.
But if you’ve already screwed-up and revealed you will be in town, you may very well be expected to work on Thanksgiving. No one will actually say you can’t attend Thanksgiving dinner. In fact, they’ll assure you that it’s just a couple of hours of work. It isn’t. They are lying. They are just time optimists. If you point this out they will just think you work too slow.
But just because you’ll be without friends, family or food on Thanksgiving doesn’t mean we don’t care about you. We’ve been there. We know what working tomorrow means. And after the jump we provide a schedule for those stuck churning Excel.
Working For Thanksgiving: A DealBreaker Guide
7:00 a.m. The alarm goes off. Holy fucking shit. You are still wearing all your clothes from last night and have no idea how you got home. It really is true what they say about the night before Thanksgiving. Hit snooze.
7:15 a.m. Alarm again. Remember that you ran into that girl who was a couple years behind you in school. She looked good last night but now you’re not sure. And you think maybe that was actually her younger sister. Thank God your girlfriend is out of town until Sunday. Hit snooze.
7:30 a.m. Alarm. Your feet actually touch the ground this time so you get out of bed. Stare at yourself in the mirror. Maybe missing Thanksgiving won’t be so bad. You are already getting a bit fat anyway.
8:00 a.m. Shower. Think about how if you get into the office early enough you can probably still make it to Thanksgiving.
8:20 a.m. Get back in bed. There’s no use going into the office in this condition.
10:20 a.m. Wake up in a panic. Dress quickly. How did you sleep so long?
10:45 a.m. Decide to call car service. If you are working on Thanksgiving, the client is definitely paying for your ride.
11:00 a.m. Streets are weirdly empty. Cab driver is very talkative. Think about what how happy your ex-girlfriends are these days. Comfort yourself with the thought that their new boyfriends earn less than you.
11:20 a.m. Stop at Starbucks. Realize it’s almost noon.
11:30 a.m. Finally sit down at your desk. Check emails. Stuff from MD. Something from the lawyers. Nothing from anyone else. Check DealBreaker. Of course those lazy kids aren’t working today.
12:00 p.m. Notice you’ve been staring out the windows for too long. Start work.
12:10 p.m. Decide to write an email to that girl from the bar last night. Decide against it. Finally arrive at something witty to say: “We should have done that along time ago.” Then wonder if you actually had done that along time ago. You can’t remember. Delete. That was a good move because it wasn’t actually witty anyway.
12:30 p.m. Now you are really going. To the bathroom.
1:00 p.m. Back to Starbucks. Defnitely need more coffee.
Read the rest here.
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