Reddened eyes stare back at me from the mirror. Pale glare from industrial lights accentuates my weariness. My child’s disrupted sleep disrupted mine. Finding responses more eloquent than grunts challenging. Evening now descends, sunlight reflected from the building across the way. The excessive caffeine coursing my veins somewhat obliterates my fatigue while adding a strange, surreal quality. Which combined with a demanding bladder adds to this unfocused day. Hard to point to accomplishments, yet they exist. Simply put, an unfocused and distracted day. One nicely viewed from the rear-view mirror of life.
This post gives me pause. Meetings, the infernal overwrought obsession of our lives. It's not just corporate America, but the various groups and org's I've dallied with over the years suffer from meetopia, too. No one I know likes the blasted things, yet I don't know anyone offering up a successful resistance. Related to this, methinks, I have noted that I do a great deal over my workdays (check off a ridiculous number of to-dos) and accomplish little or nothing. The mass of tasks don't roll up to anything. And I've noticed a lingering sense of frustration lately. I spend precious little time reflecting on my goals, and how I can link them to what I do over the course of any given day. I'm so divorced from this, I really wonder what I really want to do, to accomplish any more. Within a recess of my brain comes a niggling thought. Perhaps this passion for meetings offers up a substitute for reflection. Knowing that we must account, personally, face-to-face f
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