Each December I accompany my husband to his company holiday party. I get to see his coworkers and their significant others play shuffle board and eat mediocre beef. It is a ritual that ends with us watching his boss open his gift from the employees, which is always some hunting weapon or a gadget that you buy for the person who has everything. This year it was a temperature sensing camera, which when demoed quickly revealed “hot spots” under our clothes. (For me this probably showed hidden sweat crevices that develop when my mother pooch is vacuum-sealed into shape wear.)

I do enjoy these parties, as they are entertaining and I have an excuse to eat a meal sans children with my handsome man.  I actually wore eyeliner tonight. What a fancy occasion.

My company holds a much larger and less intimate soirée during the holidays. The same meal is served each and every G’damned year: turkey breast and mashed potatoes with limp Caesar salad and a hard dinner roll. This year I will be working during the festivities, so my plan is to ask for a to-go container and fill it entirely with pecan pie.

Here, unfortunately, it is not unusual for someone to have brought a tuba. And there are company retirees everywhere in festive scarves with their sweatered spouses sitting silently in cheap banquet chairs.

I think administrators want us to feel appreciated. But we mostly feel awkward. There is pressured small talk made as you run into acquaintances and search backward for connections from the last time you met, for questions to ask them about their dog, their kids, or the cruise they took in the summer. Then there is the pause followed by the excuse to move on to the next cluster of people to ask how you are and politely compliment your plastic Christmas jewelry.

Socializing is draining for me as an introvert. I understand why there are people who choose not to attend. My company is so large that no one would miss me if I didn’t go, and there might possibly be more pie without me.

The smaller party my husband’s company throws is more important for him to show up to.  He needs to let his boss thank him, and the employees get a chance to return gratitude to the place that pays them and teaches them new skills. It’s only once a year, but it helps set the tone for teamwork.

The decision on whether or not to attend the company party, no matter what time of year it is thrown, is a personal one that only you can make. If the benefits outweigh the negatives you should muster up the courage, put on your best schmoozing outfit, and engage in some awkward conversation for the benefit of your career and the people you pretend to like working with.

Ten reasons to attend the company party:

1. Free food (no matter how it tastes).
2. Complimentary drinks, if you are lucky, which make it easier to swap camping stories with the creepy guy from IT.
3. A chance to see what “dressed up” looks like for certain people who can’t let go of their 80s hair.
4. Reconnaissance on how much the holiday bonus check will be before you receive it.
5. Actually talking to people who you like, but don’t have time to shoot the breeze with at work.
6. Access to embarrassing ammunition for future shit-talking behind people’s backs.
7. Brownie points for showing your love for the company.
8. Connecting faces to all the stories you hear about your coworkers’ partners.
9. A night where feeling sorry for yourself or hating your job is off limits. It’s time to grant colleagues the same free pass you occasionally  give to your family, where only positive vibes are shared.
10. Finding out you and your secret Santa both have each other: what a delightfully eerie coincidence!

Ten reasons not to go to the company party:

1. The likelihood that the shrimp salad has “turned” by the end of the night.
2. Boring speeches and toasts made by people who don’t really want to make them.
3. Missing a night at home with your family, your dignity, and your comfort zone.
4. Finding something to wear that isn’t your work uniform.
5. Trying to remember the name of your colleague’s girlfriend, and determining if she’s the same one from last year, before you say the wrong thing.
6. Fake smiling and laughing—it is utterly exhausting.
7. Having to hang out with people you don’t want to get to know, or worse, people you don’t like. Being off the clock is usually when you get to enjoy time away from them.
8. The necessity of clinical strength deodorant and mouthwash, because you will be sitting uncomfortably close, and talking over loud tuba music, after eating onions and feeling anxious. Throw some gas-X in while you’re at it.
9. Fighting the constant urge to yawn in front of others when the party starts to wane.
10. Finding the sweet spot for leaving. You can’t be first, can’t be last, and you have to say goodbye to the people who matter, the ones that made you want attend in the first place.