every monday morning, precisely at 8:30, we have a planners' meeting which takes place in a glassed-in conference room just a couple metres from my cubicle. i routinely forget about the meeting because i rarely have anything to report or ask for from the techs, and so i find it's a waste of time. sometimes i have time to waste. sometimes i don't. still, the meeting: i forget about it and it's usually the stream of planners going by my desk or the constantly slamming door to the back staircase that clues me in.
this morning i went down to the third floor to make my social rounds, say my hellos, and show off my 1960's italian merino wool mustard striped sweater from the antique mall (as one does). i lingered and chatted and then took the back stairs up to my floor. as i walked by the open conference room, i noticed it was filled with boss, planners, other people, head people, sub-head people, and such, in a way quite similar to the usual suspects. i looked at my watch, saw it was 8:07, freaked out that i was late, and tried to sneak in (this was hard to do because the lay-out of the room means that the second i came out of the back staircase my every move was on display to the whole room). i said sorry, and sat down quietly next to m. everyone was looking at me funny, but that's ok, it was because i was late, right?
m quietly turned to me and said, this is not the right meeting. this is the financial meeting. your meeting's after.
the lights went on. the looks thrown to me by my colleagues suddenly made sense, as did the presence of people who are not part of the planning group, like b the a, whose head shaking and eye rolling suddenly took on a whole new meaning.
i apologised AGAIN, and turned to leave. as i walked out, my shoulder slammed into the open glass door which made a loud booming sound, not unlike a majestic fanfare. subtle it was not.
a while later, k, my co-summer student from last year and current co-worker, told me about how two weeks earlier he freaked out that he was late to the weekly planners' meeting, ran into the conference room, sat down next to m, who gently told him that he was at the wrong meeting.
they must think they hired morons.