After a month of holiday indulgence, there's one ritual left: New Year's greetings at the office. Picture the excitement of chatting with that colleague you're drawn to, contrasted with dodging the one you'd prefer to avoid. As someone with years of office experience, I can say this post-holiday tradition doesn't thrill me—and many colleagues feel the same. Not New Year's Eve itself, which is always joyful with family or friends, but the obligatory office wishes and gossip. Here's the honest take.
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I'm talking about the first workday after the Christmas break. With extensive experience in corporate environments, I loathe the mandatory congratulations. Those New Year's wishes on day one and beyond, as colleagues trickle back. The people I genuinely care about have already received cards or Facebook messages from me. Wishing direct colleagues and managers a happy new year is no issue—I'll offer a handshake, cheek kiss, or whatever fits the relationship.
Then there's the fringe group: acquaintances I barely know, or those I know but must keep distant. On that first January workday, I aim to get it over with in one sweep. But inevitably, it drags on. Sound familiar? These days, working from home shields me from it—no direct colleagues nearby.
Ilse, however, still faces it. She shared this hilarious account in her blog.
On my way to the office, chatting with a colleague, I'm called back by Mr. Gladjakker. "Ils! Have we wished each other a happy new year yet?"
I think, 'Of course not—I spotted you and slunk away along the wall.' But politeness kicks in: "Oh no, how could I forget? Best wishes—and to your family too!"
Mr. Gladjakker falls silent—likely touched by my words.
As we continue, my colleague whispers: "How could you wish him well for his family? His wife S., who works here, left him last year for colleague X. No visitation rights for the kids." Ouch. Not a one-off gaffe.
The next day, a vague colleague charges at me in the hallway, breathless: "I hadn't wished you a happy new year yet."
I dodge a sticky kiss attempt: "You too—all the best. Hands full, can't shake." He counters with two damp cheek kisses. I bolt to the bathroom for a scrub.
I'm no stranger to kisses—quite enjoy them in the right context. This year, I approached a favored colleague: "Hey, think I missed wishing you happy new year." He grinned, and we shared sincere second wishes. Choice makes all the difference.
I'm proposing to management: Limit greetings to 10 chosen people on day one, duplicates allowed. Recipients accept graciously, no robotic replies. You'll see who's in your top ten—or not. If overlooked, no sweat; wishes went where needed.
I'll pitch it Monday. Though management loves kisses—maybe wait a week. How many days after January 1 are office New Year's greetings fair game?
