There Oughta Be A Law

It’s Friday, people.

The weekend beckons.  The work week winds down.  Let me reiterate that… DOWN.  Not up.

One of the teams I consult with is a bit dysfunctional.  Not only the team itself, but the project that they’re working on.  As such, it gets a lot of oversight from senior management in my organization.  Today was just such a meeting.  Scheduled from 1300 – 1500… a mere two hours and a couple hours before the end of the work day, it had the feeling of not interfering with the start of my weekend.

However, I know better.

Given that the team and the project are dysfunctional, the meeting did not start on time.  Nor did it end on time.  That two hour block of time, which I knew in my heart would forever be lost to me, edged its way to four hours.

Four.  Fucking.  Hours.*

And to what end?  Nothing was really accomplished during the meeting other than “change that word ‘happy’ to ‘glad’ if you will”.  You know, real impact changes.  There was pontificating by the pompous, mouth-breathing senior managers.  There was toady-ing, sycophantic agreement from the I’m-faultless-but-know-I’m-a-mere-peon leader of the team.**

I had an appointment with Dear Friend to go to the gym to work off some of this never departing baby fat.  The scheduled time approached.  Passed.  Excessively passed.  No gym today.***

And, almost losing intelligent consciousness and feeling my brains fleeing my skull in self-defense, I noticed something.

Now, to preface, I have what is known as Hamster Bladder or “TB” (Tiny Bladder).  If I drink a cup of coffee, I end up, none to soon afterwards, feeling the urge to have to pee.  And, amazingly (call Guinness World Records), seem to pee two cups of coffee in return for the one input.  It’s not awful.  But annoying at times.

Now, I need some perspective from my readers – –

During that four hour meeting, I had to go pee at least twice honestly, having drank (drunk?) a couple water bottles before and during the meeting.  I also left another time when I didn’t have to pee just to avoid screaming over the inanity of the meeting.

Now, I know there are “pee camels” (Dear Friend being one of them).  Those are people who seem to have bladders made of cast iron.  They feel no discomfort for a long time.  Nonetheless, I was mightily impressed that, of the 13 people in the meeting****, 4 (maybe 5) of them never left the room!  For four hours, they did not have to go use the necessary room.  How?  Give me perspective people.  I know I have Hamster Bladder, but is four hours a long time or not?  Okay, maybe they were using a “Coachman’s Friend”*****.

(And, in reality, I know it can be done under duress.  Attending a concert with Dear Friend, we snagged awesome spots right at the front of the stage.  But, to do so, we had to get to that place at least two hours before our band of preference was scheduled to play (with many other bands playing beforehand).  But, the place quickly filled up.  To avoid losing my spot, and after at least two beers, I was able to avoid leaving to hit the facilities for two or three hours, yet still enjoyed the show.  It can be done.)

But, above and beyond the excursion into the bladder-tory habits of people … it’s just plain WRONG to have a meeting run that long on a Friday afternoon… especially one that sucked!

I’m glad the weekend is here…

I’m having another bourbon, thankyewvurymuch!

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*Yes, I came right home and became a tad inebriated on bourbon to forget the experience.  Why do you ask?

**…who also seems to have his wardrobe perpetually locked into the 1980s.  Even his deputy has offered to take him clothes shopping to bring him up to date.

***On a good note, Dear Friend found it necessary to skip gym as well, instead brilliantly deciding to imbibe alcoholic refreshments with members of her work tribe, washing away the detritus of their work week as well…

****And, yes, I did sit and guesstimate the salaries of the people involved in this useless goat rope of a meeting.  Horrendous waste of time and money.

*****Now, I couldn’t find a picture, but I know it used to exist.  A device with a condom like thing you put over your junk, with a tube leading to a reservoir that strapped around your leg.

Tags: brains leaking out of my ears, iron bladders, putting the 'fun' in dysfunctinal, Speaking just to be heard