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What It’s Like To (Sort Of) Work The Day After Thanksgiving

Asleep at desk

One of the many joys of the Thanksgiving holiday is the four-day weekend–unless you happen to be the low man on the totem pole at an investment firm. As those of us who work in businesses that are driven by stock markets know, the New York Stock Exchange and the bond market are open the day after Thanksgiving, and if the markets are open, so is your company. So while most of you are sleeping off your tryptophan coma or out buying flatscreen televisions for $100 on Black Friday, I’ll be dragging my ass into the office. While I could take a vacation day, it seems sort of a waste to use one on a day that’s essentially all play and very little work. Here’s a rundown of what my day will probably look like:

7:30 a.m.: My alarm goes off at the same time I would normally arrive at the office on a regular workday. Since the person with the most seniority in the office today is probably the janitor, I’m not super concerned about showing up on time.

7:42 a.m.: Send some emails from my phone that my boss (who, of course, took today off) is copied on so he thinks I’m in the office and working like a good employee. Pro tip: be sure to remove the “Sent from my IPhone” signature. Don’t be an amateur.

8:39 a.m.: Leave the house in my Chuck Taylors, jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt from my last sorority recruitment, and a fleece vest. One of the few pros about working the day after Thanksgiving is that the dress code is reduced from business to casual. It feels so wrong to go into the office in jeans looking like a homeless sorority girl, but yet so right.

8:47 a.m.: Stop at a different Starbucks than my usual one since I had to alter my route to avoid the traffic clusterfuck that is the mall on Black Friday. Order a full fat latte and a cheese danish, because diets don’t count when you have to work on a day that 90 percent of your friends have off.

8:56 a.m.: Commiserate with the barista about having to work Black Friday. Give him an extra tip since the poor bastards at Starbucks have to work today, too.

9:15 a.m.: Roll into the office a full hour and 45 minutes late. Note that I am the first one here. Good thing the market didn’t crash in the first 45 minutes of trading.

9:37 a.m.: Post the obligatory “Can’t believe I have to work today :(” Facebook status or tweet. Your misery isn’t real if you don’t share it on social media.

10:03 a.m.: Start loosely business-related work, which includes answering emails I purposely saved for today because I wanted to respond when the person was out, cleaning my cube since I haven’t had a chance to since the great August soda spill, plotting out my 2015 vacation days, and checking the emails in my spam box to make sure I’m not missing any great online sales.

10:51 a.m.: All of the “work” that actually needed to be done today is complete. Eight hours condensed into 48 minutes of work? Not bad.

11:04 a.m.: After another Starbucks run, commence online shopping. I like to practice the “one for them, one for me” method of holiday shopping.

12:02 p.m.: Time for a little pre-lunch nap in the “health” room. I think it’s supposed to be for nursing mothers or something, but there’s a recliner in here and a lock on the door and I’m tired from the shitload of carbs I ate yesterday…sorry, moms.

12:30 p.m.: A few years ago, when I first learned that we were open the day after Thanksgiving, I suggested to my boss that we have pizza delivered for all of the poor suckers who were stuck in the office. This is now a firm tradition, with pizza, soda, cookies and some kind of sporting event on the big screen. It’s the only time all year my coworkers actually spend more than 15 minutes being social with each other in a venue that doesn’t involve alcohol. In fact, it almost lasts until…

2 p.m.: The bond market closes after the stock market closed at 1 p.m. Not sure who came up with the idea that the stock market should close at 1 p.m. on Black Friday, but I’d like to buy that guy a drink–and tell whoever decides the bond market closing time to get his shit together.

2:01 p.m.: Send another email copying my boss so he knows I stuck it out to the bitter end.

2:02 p.m.: The office is a ghost town. See you on Cyber Monday, kids.

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2NOTBrokeGirls

There really did used to be 2NOTBrokeGirls, but since one of them spent all of her money on shoes and vodka, there's now just one (financially stable) J, who is too lazy to change her user name. J spends her free time saving the world, one sorority girl at a time (usually while wearing yoga pants), questioning why she decided to go to graduate school, and documenting her love of all things cheese related. You can ask her anything you want about football, using your boobs to get what you want, and pizza at @2NOTBrokeGirls on Twitter or 2NOTBrokeGirls@gmail.com.

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