More and more I understand what I wanted to escape by retiring when I did. I wanted to escape endless useless meetings that were dominated by the same people who talked and talked and in the end did nothing except check off one more meeting on their daily schedule. While the rest of us put aside an hour or two for these meetings, when we had plenty of real work to do, the meeting addicts held us captive while they proceeded to talk endlessly about nothing at all. At least that's my take on it. Percentage-wise I'd say that about twenty-five percent of all meetings actually led to a desired result. The rest were just excuses to waste time in my estimation. I know I am being judgmental, and I wish I could think and feel otherwise. But in my former workplace there was a lot of hot air floating around and eventually my body just couldn't take it anymore. I got restless physically and mentally and just wanted to escape whatever room in which we were trapped.
I was reminded of this last night when I attended the annual garden meeting held by our allotment garden. The board leader held order and had a list of things to be discussed. It was all going well until the room was open for discussion of some particular issues. That's when the windbags opened their mouths to overstate the obvious. I wish I could say that what they uttered had a point, but there was no point other than to harangue the rest of us for thinking incorrectly. One man in particular was the worst; he chided the rest of us every time he opened his mouth, saying the same exact thing at least five times. A domineering man who likes to hear himself talk, who pounded the table first when announcing that he had something to say. Which of course was important, at least to him. It was torture to listen to him. The rest of us could have rolled our eyes but didn't. We were not rude; he was. That's when the board leader should have stepped in and stopped him but didn't. Or if she tried, it wasn't firmly enough. I caught the eye of the woman sitting across from me at the table, and we tacitly agreed that it was painful to listen to this man drone on and on. It made me wonder if some people feel they have so little stature in life that they need to assert themselves in settings where it absolutely has no place. This was a garden meeting after all, not a high-level diplomatic government meeting.
I shouldn't have let the meeting ruin my evening, but it did. I was reminded of Sartre's comment 'hell is other people' when I thought afterward about the meeting and some of the very strange people who frequent such meetings. It's hell to be stuck in the same room with domineering windbags. What is fun about sitting for two hours in the same room with these types of people you barely know and will probably not get to know (or want to get to know) in any meaningful way? I made myself a promise that I will not attend these meetings in the future. It goes against my grain to disengage from such things, because I know it is important to be involved, but I cannot stomach being harangued anymore by windbags. I've had enough of it to last me a lifetime.
