The year isn’t quite over yet,
but panic has been firmly set;
meetings and mails,
with deadlines in trails,
the end-of-year sprint has us met.
Before it semmed a piece of cake,
but now each day’s another ache;
tasks stacked to heaps,
while progress just creeps,
and milestones always at stake.
But soon the case is crystal-clear:
Deadlines exist to be broken, right here!
amid Excel fires,
and misery choirs,
one lesson rings honest and near:
it all works out fine – in the next, new year.
Originally, John, Holly, Hans, and the rest of the project team had sworn that this year everything would be different. More structured. Calmer. Maybe even a little festive. But December had this special ability of turning every plan into a flickering, wildly flashing mess that looked like a hyperactive elf, with a string of lights and three liters of Red Bull in his system, had tried to give project management a new go.
No sooner had the first Christmas carols begun to play in the shops and the Christmas tree decorations been dug out of the basement than that special scent of gingerbread and panic sweat began to spread. One might assume that the pre-Christmas period would be a time of serenity, but this time of year, the project team is usually occupied with desperately trying to pretend that everything is under control…
What had seemed like a solid roadmap in October now looked like an explosive accident involving ink, opaque white paint, and glitter.
December began, as so often, with a marathon of meetings that turned every calendar into a chaotic mosaic of appointments, overlaps, cancellations, and rescheduling.
“I swear, Microsoft just flipped me off,” John grumbled one morning after opening Teams. Hans just nodded gloomily. “I moderated a review meeting in my sleep yesterday.”
And once again, there were new appointments in the overview. “Kickoff for the year-end closing alignment?” Holly read aloud. “We already had that yesterday,” she groaned in exasperation. “No,” Hans corrected resignedly, “yesterday was the follow-up to the pre-alignment. Today is the follow-up to the follow-up.” “I quit,” said John. No one took him seriously.
Meetings generated new meetings; they were scheduled, seemingly to recreate themselves. To make matters worse, the meetings became longer and longer with each new calendar door that opened. Like industrial cheese laced with glue, the discussions dragged on and on.
The “short” meeting to review the milestones that had been set and achieved, which was scheduled to last 30 minutes, lasted an incredible 2 hours and 48 minutes, and in the end it was agreed to conclude everything that remained open in the meeting the next morning… It was amazing how everything that had had eleven months to be done suddenly became critical in the last 14 days.
And then a memo from the finance department.
Holly read it aloud as if she were announcing bad news: “There’s too much left over from the budget. Please spend it by the end of the year, otherwise it will be cut next year.” John’s eyes widened. “That’s… that’s a free pass!” Hans grinned crookedly. “Or a death sentence.” “Don’t get too excited,” Holly added sarcastically.
What followed was a shopping spree of epic proportions. The team reacted like overexcited children in a toy store: ergonomic chairs, massage chairs, chocolate fountains—the possibilities seemed endless!
“Do we really need a life-size inflatable snowman?” Holly asked, raising an eyebrow. “His name is now Olaf,” John said firmly. “And yes.”
In the end, there were orders on the table that no one would be able to explain by March at the latest. Among them were 1,000 twist-top pens with the company logo, 100 mugs with the inscription “Agile through the Christmas season,” and, of course, Olaf, the snowman who would henceforth assist at the reception desk.
Finally, there was the Christmas party. It was supposed to be “very cozy and relaxed.” Of course, it wasn’t.
The caterer arrived late and with the wrong order. The playlist consisted of an endless loop of Christmas hits that had already left traumatic memories the previous year. And the karaoke competition to “strengthen team spirit” turned into a test of collective endurance.
“Hans, you don’t have to sing Last Christmas again,” whispered Holly. “Yes, I do,” said Hans with a deadly serious expression. “It’s on the agenda.”
The next morning, when everyone was back at their desks with headaches and in a bad mood, the next disaster struck: “All invoices must be approved TODAY, otherwise everything will be carried over to next year!” cried John, who had been the first to discover the email. In response to his cry, the Wi-Fi went down.
“That’s a sign,” Hans said ominously.
The closer the holidays got, the more heated tempers became. The end-of-year fever had finally set in: everything had to be done NOW. IMMEDIATELY. Since yesterday!
Attempts were made to salvage the last tasks, while new requirements fell from the sky like hailstones. Meanwhile, John was convinced that the printer hated him personally, while Holly seriously toyed with the idea of setting her PC on fire, and Hans pondered the possibility of throwing the hatefully overcrowded whiteboard in the meeting room off a 35-story tower…
And then—finally, finally!—the long-awaited holiday break arrived. In the blurry hustle and bustle of the last few weeks, no one knew exactly how they had managed it, but somehow all the tasks had been completed (one way or another). Like in a good Christmas movie, Holly, John, and Hans were finally redeemed by a magical happy ending.
The budget had been planned. All invoices had been issued. Receipts had been paid. The internet had returned just in time for the last necessary emails. The most important tasks had been completed, the less important ones… well… January was coming.
The team left the office feeling exhausted and bittersweetly satisfied. All the chaos, stress, and spontaneous escalations… But finally, it was over.
“We survived,” said Holly. “Barely,” muttered Hans. John grinned. “See you next year, then.”
In the first week of January, at least one email with the subject line “Quick question about last year’s project” would arrive — and the adventure would begin all over again. An adventure full of surprises, spontaneous twists, unexpected guests, and occasional nervous breakdowns. But also one full of team spirit, humor, and those little moments that showed why, despite everything, you somehow enjoy doing this job.
And who knows… Maybe next year will be more relaxed. Maybe.
