Work is killing me (okay, just the morning tea)

June 1, 2016

I started a new job; I was told on my first day that I can expect to gain a lot of weight ...

I recently started a new job. I was told on my first day that I can expect to gain a lot of weight. No I don’t work for a patisserie serving up delicious vanilla slice. I don’t work for a fast food chain either. In fact, my job is not related to food at all.

I work for a large organisation. My department alone has 140 employees. The ratio of women to men is approximately 70:30. The ratio I just stated is why it is expected my girth will widen. To explain further, I give you two words: morning tea.

Why it keeps coming …

A department of 140 people regularly has people leaving. Not because they’re unhappy (so far my impression is that I’m part of a cohesive, supportive and fun department) but because of natural attrition. Guess what happens when someone leaves. We have a morning tea.

Back to the aforementioned women to men ration. At any given time, there are at least a half dozen pregnant women. What do we do when an expectant mum works her last day before starting maternity leave? We have a morning tea.

Let’s not forget that horrible phenomenon that occurs annually without fail – we get a year older. What happens when any of the 140 odd people in my department have to endure that depressing anniversary? We have a morning tea.

These morning teas are awash with the typical fare: cakes, biscuits, cheese and crackers, chips, dips and the obligatory cobb – you know where the middle is hollowed out and delicious, creamy based things are put in. There’s not a nasty carrot or celery stick in sight.

Working with men … not a cake in sight

My previous employment was predominantly in a male dominated field. We all of course had birthdays but it was a business as usual affair. When someone left, we slapped them on the back and wished them well. I even “enjoyed” two pregnancies through those years.

On each of my last working days before I started my year in hell (sorry, I of course mean maternal bliss), the boys I worked with would throw a ‘do’ complete with copious amounts of beer (no, I didn’t drink any) and some poor, blushing newbie would have the arduous task of presenting me with a servo purchased bunch of flowers and wishing me well.

My verdict

In the interests of staving off diabetes and clogged arteries, I give the following verdict:

Morning tea – 0;

Servo flowers –  1.

Got to go, the cake’s just arrived.

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