More writing...

I’m in a conference room with the warm exhaust from the projector blowing on me. It’s 10:08a. I came into the room at 9:43a arms with two laptops, my backpack and a projector. Inside my backpack I had my water bottle and a granola bar. I had packed a meeting survival kit. I rearranged the room for optimal seating so that 8 people could see the wall that I was projecting on. Then I rearranged it, fought with myself a bit, cursed the room, and rearranged it. It’s far from optimal but I think it would work. I don’t think this is the time to try new room arrangements on the CEO. The meeting was scheduled for 10a, just like it always is. I am the only one here, like most times. This time I ducked my head into his office and said “I’m going to go set up the room, is there any specific way you’d like it to look?” He said he didn’t care and that the meeting would be late, probably 10:30 because someone from the something-or-other office was here. The important people needed to meet with them.

I should be doing a lot of things but instead I’m reading an online story with illustrations about two high school best friends. It made me want to write or dream about all of the things I’d rather be doing that sitting in this semi-dark conference room. Think about what it would be like is everyone had one day a week where they didn’t have to think about any of their responsibilities. No deadlines or bills or dirty laundry! Just like when we were kids! When we’re kids we know that adults have responsibility but it doesn’t look all that bad. In fact, we think “Paying a bill isn’t hard.” And it really isn’t. The act of paying a bill is not hard. Make sure you have the money, and write a check. I love pretending I was an adult when I was a teenager. I’d change bank accounts every month to get the best deals, a free mug or .02%. What we don’t realize when we’re kids is the worry that comes with all the adult tasks. It’s the thinking about if I’m buying the right can of soup for the value and cost and taste. It’s the guilt of knowing it doesn’t really matter but I can’t stop worrying about it anyway.

I’m not sure why I was offended when they came in and called my room set-up silly. Then they looked at me and asked why I didn’t jump in. I’m feeling defensive. That’s a bad mood for a meeting. An epic meeting.