At the risk of sounding really air-brained and ADD-plagued, I’ll let it be known that I’m writing this from a meeting. It’s a serious meeting. I sit here in the boardroom with fellow pharmacists, contemporaries, seniors as well as some of my former lecturers and professors. I seem to somehow always find myself in these sort of meetings. How? Honestly, they pick on me. They seem to think I’ll add something to these august gatherings. We’ll see.
My colleagues go on to discuss drug laws, accredited drug selling, family planning project, funding these schemes, the pharmaceutical society, who is responsible for what, who is the stakeholder in what project, quality assurance, and so many other things I’m certain to hear more of in the course of the year. Don’t get me wrong, I’m concerned about these issues to. The fact that I was informed of this meeting about five hours prior, with no more information except ‘please show up’ may have something to do with my state of attention. And why are we repeating things we spent a full week familiarising ourselves with, three months ago in a live-in workshop? I’ll wait. Maybe something new is about to be discussed. Why else would we be here?
The highlight of this meeting so far, has been when the office assistant decided to make a choice of drink for me. As soon as he started passing he drinks around, I started wondering what I’d have. A coke? No, I’m too thirsty for that. The coke might make me feel even more dehydrated. Does he have water on his cart? Well, I can’t see from here and I can’t stretch my neck too far to look in his cart. That’ll just be poor manners. Well, maybe I’ll have a Sprite. It’s colourless, my brain might be tricked. My decision made, I await my turn.
Next thing I know, I’m being passed a Fanta orange, opened and accompanied by straw. No, you didnt miss a line. He didn’t ask. The kindly guy decided that since I’m the only female in this room, chances are high that I’d prefer a colourful orange flavoured drink, viz Fanta, to any other drink; so he just handed me one. Yeah. I looked about, to see if anyone else understood why I was a bit startled. Yes, one person was. He smiled knowingly, as he pushed my Fanta O closer to me. Luckily, Fanta O was once a favourite of mine. It now soothes my dry throat, as I try to look intelligent and unbored by my intelligent group of colleagues. Is that a new word? Unbored? Well, for the next two hours, I’m the living embodiment of that new term.
The meeting seems to be picking up some heat right now, thank goodness. I wouldn’t want to fall asleep in front of all these people. I can imagine the rumours. ‘She fell asleep as soon as she had emptied her bottle of Fanta, would you believe it!’ Time to become an active participant.
Luckier than I am? Are your work meetings any fun? Any reasons to giggle in an otherwise serious environment? Moments of comic relief?