The Joys Of Returning To Work

Going back to work after Christmas is a bit like going back to school, the difference being that at school you had your mates, people were genuinely interested if you had a good time and that girl you fancied in your English class still looked hot despite the outbreak of acne caused by too many Quality Street.

One lesson I've learned over the years is that anything in a brown envelope freaks people out if they aren't expecting it. The Inland Revenue's Christmas present to the nation is a particularly scary letter telling the good folk of taxpayer on sea that if they don't get their returns in by the 31st January they will be fined £100. Now when this particular piece of Christmas cheer arrives on a client's doormat they panic and forget that they signed their tax return back in the summer and that you told them what their libility would be come January - they phone to be reassured by you that everything has been taken care of and there's nothing to worry about.

Today I have felt like a financial good samaritan, talking down clients from their place on the ceiling.

Having been off work for the best part of two weeks and having not spoken to anybody on the telephone since Christmas morning I can't get over how loud people sound on the phones - is this normal? Are people so desperate for human contact after a week off that they feel the need to shout?

Anyway the office is eerily quiet today, with half the staff still away (some in exotic places) - the first call of the day was at just after eight (I know, I know but I like a piece of quiet first thing in the morning) from Magoo saying her Gran died last night and could she have a couple of days off next week for the funeral. When I relay this message to one of her co-workers I'm informed that she's also spent most of the holiday in hospital visiting her Grandfather who has taken a turn for the worst.

Pushes loud voices on the phone down the importance league doesn't it?