Working at all during the month of December is obviously a joke (see: Christmas lull), but there is a particular parody to working on New Year’s Eve, when all you’re doing is lusting desperately after the first drink you will take on your journey to blackout drunkenness, inaugurating the cleansing of the previous year.
But no, you must sit soberly in your cube until as late as five o’ clock to wait for that merciful first taste… unless, you, being the corporate deviant that you are, decide to get a little jump start with a splash of liquor in your coffee or, fuck, even in the flask you keep in your bottom drawer upon (more than one) occasion.