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Twas the night before an entrepreneur’s Christmas, when all through the ‘Haus

Not a creature was stirring, except for my mouse.

The white boards were hung by the laptops with care,

In hopes that productivity soon would be there.

The tweets were nestled all snug in their threads,

While visions of viral sharing danced in our heads.

And my developer with her white noise, and I with my rap,

Had just rebuilding our brand new site-map.

When out in the common room there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.

Away to the beverage cart I flew like a flash,

Tore open the drink pod before I might crash.

The moon on the hot desk of the new worker’s co

Reminded me that mid-day was too many hours ago.

When, what to my screen-weary eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

He works one night a year, it must be St Nick.

More rapid than SSD his teammates they came,

And he hustled, and motivated, calling their name!

“Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!

To the top of the check-in desk! to the top of fame wall!

If I can dash away, you can dash away! We’ll dash away all!”

As bloggers and speakers that upsell on high,

When they meet with an obstacle, bend the truth, never lie.

So up to third floor the workers they flew,

With the sleigh full o’tech toys, and St Nicholas too.

And then, in exhaustion, I heard on the roof

The distraction and pounding of each little hoof.

As gulped down my caffeine, and was turning around,

Down the elevator shaft St Nick came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

I stared at my hoodie and sweatpants, sternly off put.

A bundle of devices were flung on his back,

He looked like an Apple dealer, opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! Even sober he’s merry!

His cheeks were like roses, he must not eat dairy!

His hard little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

Next to his work ethic, I stood like a schmoe.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

Psychedelic-smoke encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face and a happy round belly,

This man obvs ate often, things like bowlfuls of jelly!

He was healthy and rested, a right jolly old elf,

And I cried when I saw him, in spite of myself!

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Made me stop in my tracks — “Why aren’t I in bed?”

He spoke not a word, I looked back at my work work,

Wondered what I was doing, staying here like a jerk.

And laying my fingers on the bridge of my nose,

St. Nick gave me a nod, time for laptops to close!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave the high sign,

Away they all flew, knowing delivered’s better than fine.

But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,

“Get out of the office, you deserve time tonight!”