Any working girl (or boy) will tell you that not all meetings are created equal. There are meetings that are productive- ranging from super productive to just plain productive. Then, there are the nonproductive meetings- ranging from the useless to the sort that make you question your existence.

 In a non-productive meeting, people don’t really listen to each other, they pass snide remarks or say things they don’t mean and make promises they won’t keep.  In this sort of meeting, there’s someone furtively checking to ensure the wool’s nicely over your eyes, or justifying, in a roundabout way, the need for the wool or avoiding the laying of any solid plans for anything- except for more meetings.

In a productive meeting, you outline, very clearly, plans for the future, and receive firm commitments from the people who matter and will deliver. You leave this type of meeting feeling energized and ready for anything- knowing that the promises made will be fulfilled and the world will be a tiny bit better for it.

There had been a breakdown in communications- all three of us soon agreed.  I agreed because what I was hearing indicated that some massively selective editing had occurred. I was being reminded of things I said and things I said I wouldn’t need.  But, there was no recollection that these things I said and things I said I wouldn’t need belonged to the realm called- at the very beginning of our relationship when I was meant to be a freelance writer.

For their part, I’m sure they agreed because they thought I was accepting that I had a hand in all of the confusion. A suggestion was made that we all strive to be better at communicating things. Smiles. Very fake.

The meeting was a long one- over an hour long. Too long and all my fault.  I kept trying to reason/argue certain points.  They kept trying to convince me that they recognized my worth- were they not having this meeting (a long one at that)?  I don’t know why I kept going- maybe it’s that thing in me that hopes beyond all hope. For, they’d already lost me; about twenty minutes into the meeting (or maybe even before that).  I’d already made up my mind and knew what I would do, had to do and what I wouldn’t do.

I finally gave up/in and the too long meeting was adjourned, with promises for another. I was walked out by one individual who assured me that the other remaining behind did have communication issues. I gave some noncommittal response. I wondered what sort of fault he would report in me when he rejoined the other who'd remained in the office.

It was over.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  We had all talked about working harder to make it work. But we all knew the truth- I would remain a freelance writer. That was it. Settled!

THE END.

 Or so a working girl could only hope….

Coming Next Tuesday: #34 The End’s Never Easy.