Tuesday, February 2, 2010


I swear these meetings get more boring the longer I'm coming to them.
It's funny; this one's actually short, all things considered; I've only been here three hours, and we're on the last item. It's possible I could be back in the office shortly after 8. Trust me, that's a victory.
But holy cow. I can't believe people come to these without some sort of compelling. I'm a mercenary; at least I'm being compensated. Not well enough to make up for the brain cells that are catapulting themselves into oblivion to avoid the torture of sitting through any more of these presentations.
Granted, it's probably worse for me than somebody who just came once, because not only do I come to the official meetings, I go to the in-between meetings too. And I read the agendas and sometimes the minutes. I get some e-mails. I talk to people about these issues. So when a presenter gets up, the odds are good that I've already heard this discussion at least twice. And it wasn't interesting the first time.
I can tell how boring it is by how bad my headache is. Currently, I feel like thousands of little people are dancing on my every nerve in my skull wearing shoes of hot iron. They focus mostly on the front, around the temples but also throughout the forehead, and I can tell when the music goes from jazzy to rap because the pain ratchets up out of nowhere. I also feel mildly nauseous. My eyes are glazing over. My behind is hating the chair I've been in for 2.5 hours now. And what's left of my brain is crying out for somebody to get up and make a scene. Or at least for the meeting to end.

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