I don't know what it is about meetings and maybe it has to do with whether I'm left-brained or right-brained. You know those tests you can take to figure out if you're in your right mind? Well, I'm not, but I'm not in my left mind, either. I'm a big squiggly blob right down the middle of my brain in the frontal lobe that hates planning-meetings with the fire of a thousand suns.
If you do a google-image search on right brain left brain you get all sorts of returns that are kind of similar to this:
|very informative but also kind of confusing. can I just be the side that's brightly colored INSIDE the lines?|
So, really, left-side/right-side mumbo jumbo doesn't do a lot for me. And neither do planning-meetings. In fact, a planning-meeting is essentially a demonic floor-puddle from the pit of hell itself in which I am forced to step sock-footed. Have I ever written about my peeves? Stepping in a puddle while wearing socks is top of the list.
The difference between a planning-meeting and an informational-meeting can't be understated. A planning-meeting, especially a poorly-conducted one, usually serves no purpose other than to run late and have everybody sit around fluidly thinking out loud. Informational-meetings, on the other hand, are just about a teaspoon more tolerable and I can get through them without feeling rugburned on all sides, as long as they only last about 20 minutes. I don't mind an informational-meeting every now and again as long as it has a worthy reason and serves an obvious purpose, but in order to qualify as something I willingly choose to spend my time on, the following criteria must be met:
1) It must be short.
2) It must be to the point.
3) It must have a goal, fulfill a purpose, be productive, AND efficient all in one.
4) There must be snacks.
5) You must either provide childcare I approve of, or be coloring-book-and-lots-of-interruptions-and-potty-breaks friendly.
6) See number 4. Preferably cookies. And a big drink from Sonic.
7) Why are we having this meeting again?
One of my friends gave me this magnet for our fridge. I look at it daily to remind myself how much I dislike meetings just in case I ever forget and accidentally find myself in one.
|the picture of the duck is just a bonus.|
My best form of planning is to either think it all through myself or talk it all through at a non-meeting [that is, we just happen to be together with no agenda in mind] with up to eight thousand people until they start to annoy me, and then I need to get back to thinking it through myself. When I 'talk it through,' I really mean have a wild conversation where ideas overlap, people have to shout to be heard, and usually somebody is laying in a pool of their own blood by the time it's over. That's basically a normal conversation any day of the week with my Gigantic Family, or anytime we discuss Christmas plans, and unfortunately Hyperbole is usually right in the thick of it. I say 'unfortunately' because this is one area where she inevitably starts to annoy me right away. I am having my own private, unofficial planning-meeting tomorrow night with Hyperbole and her short-little friend, Steampunk. There's no way around it, really. Hyperbole texted me and asked if they could come over and I had a slight panic attack before replying. I mean, I guess so. If there are no other options laying around. Can't I pick being slowly being eaten alive by vultures? Or being poked in the eye with a hot stick?
My survival tomorrow night is determined by the fact I already have my coping strategy lined out. It goes like this:
1) The meeting is at my house.
2) I will have cookies.
3) Hyperbole will bring me a big drink from Sonic.
4) I can tell her to leave when I just can't take it anymore.
As a last resort, if she won't leave when it's time for her to go, I will either go over and spontaneously puke in her lap or claw her eyeballs out and throw them at her. Win-win. She wants to leave, I want her to leave, I still have part of a drink from Sonic to work through, and I can still finish off the planning-meeting by myself in the big squiggly blob right down the middle of my brain. Boom.