Throwing Poo

Today my department arrived in Cleveland for our quarterly meeting.  This means two full days of rehashing the same old shit we rehashed the last time.  Two full days of preoccupying myself with sucking down caffeine and eating candy in order to block out the relentless gibberish that stabs at my ears like AIDs-infected needles.

If I were asked to write an honest agenda for these meetings, it would look something like this:

8:00AM
Breakfast meeting.  Two people do not show up, infuriating everyone else.

8:19 AM
Everyone finally shows up for the meeting.  Passive-aggressive comments are exchanged.

8:36 AM
I offer my first brilliant idea of the day.  It is too intelligent for anyone else to comprehend. Dumbfucks.

9:00 AM
Important Issue #1 Discussion begins

9:03 AM
"Blathering Betty" begins pontificating on some irrelevant topic. A Search-And-Rescue (SAR) team is scrambled to try to find Betty's point.

10:00 AM
Important Issue #2 Discussion begins

10:13 AM
A cell phone rings

10:14 AM
Discussion deteriorates into complaint session about cell phones.

10:52 AM
Important Issue #2 Discussion resumes

10:55 AM
Five minute bathroom break. 

11:15 AM
Everyone finally returns from break

11:16 AM
Everyone complains about how busy they are - Part I

12:00 Lunch
Someone shares way too much personal information, making everyone uncomfortable.
Another sneaks off to the bar to steal a quick drink.  No one is fooled or surprised.

1:17 PM
Everyone returns from lunch

1:18 PM
Snacks are served

1:20
Everyone complains about how busy they are (with their mouths full) - Part II

2:00 PM
Outside speaker begins presentation on Important Issue #3

2:11 PM
Speaker uses the phrase "Stick that in another bucket." I spend the rest of the meeting responding to comments by saying "stick that in your bucket" and laughing uncontrollably.

3:00 PM
Everyone complains about how busy they are - Part III

3:30 PM
Discussion of dinner options begins

4:45 PM
Discussion of dinner options ends.  No consensus is achieved.

4:59 PM
The SAR team returns, stinking of alcohol and illicit sex.

Every day I hate my job a little more, but what are my options? 

I do have this fantastic business idea, which I could totally pull off.  Well, fantastic except for the fact that I can't make any money doing it (thank you, eleven years of worthless fucking non-profit experience).  

I could write a book about fundraising.  But the thought of spending hours upon hours writing without being able to use phrases like "dirty tampon sandwich," "shit-stained forehead," "vomiting horse semen," "I like my toast with a little yeast infection," "dead baby stew," "grandma is dragging her droopy hemorrhoids across the rug again," and "wading in a steaming pool of blood and feces" seems unbearable.  (I am going to run for Congress one day just so the newspaper will be forced to report that last sentence.  Wheee!)     

I could try to write a book of humorous essays, but who would buy it?  Hell, if Anonymous Coworker didn't occasionally fumble with his balls while typing, I'd rarely get more than one comment.

Fuck it. I'm too tired to figure it out tonight.  Plus, I've got meetings in the morning.