Meetings

and why I hate them. Terry notes in a comment that I'm spending too much time in meetings, hence the poor attitude. Allow me to demonstrate the problem.

This morning was supposed to be a conference call. It was to take two hours, but since I had called a meeting of my own an hour in, we said we'd be there for the beginning. So we get on the phone, and participants on the other end begin showing computer stuff we can't see. We're OK with it, but they insist we'd really be better off coming over to see what they have up. Fine. I haven't got my car, as we're headed into Manhattan tonight (more Gilbert & Sullivan!) & I got a ride in so Mrs. could pick me up & we'd have one car.

So we get in colleague's car, drive two miles to another site, park, get told by a security guard we can't park there, drive all the way around the construction site that used to be the parking lot, and find a reserved spot that we park in anyway. Wander halfway around the building until we find an open entrance. Get in to the conference room where they are looking at...

a screen we could easily have called up from where we were in the first place.

Some discussion, promises of more paperwork, (the two hour meeting lasted about 45 minutes, so we would've had plenty of time for the one we actually needed to have) back outside to the car. Drive around for five minutes trying to figure out where the hell the exit is. Finally guess we need to go into the lower parking levels (which look like a wonderful place to get mugged), and eventually three levels down find an exit ramp. Back to the office, where we find a parking spot a mere five miles away.

And this doesn't even begin to explain the problems with the actual content of the meeting. So if I sound irritated, there's a good reason. Based on one email yesterday, a colleague said I was thisclose to having a brain hemorrhage. I told him I was much more likely to go postal. He asked if I'd wait till he was gone, which I assured him I would.