The 8:00 AM Meeting

There's nothing quite like the 8:00 AM meeting.

As soon as you see the invitation you know it's trouble.  You've missed these things before — the one morning you roll in at 9:30 is always the morning of an 8:00 AM meeting.  So when you accept the invitation you take preventative action: you change the reminder from "15 minutes" to "20 hours."  You know that Future You will appreciate the heads-up. 

The day before the meeting the reminder comes.  You pat yourself on the back a little and set the reminder to “snooze” for an hour.  After all, you are a moron, and you'll need hourly reminders for the rest of the day if you're to have any chance of making the 8:00 AM meeting.

The reminders continue popping up all day, so you actually remember to tell your wife, "Hey, I have an 8:00 AM meeting tomorrow."  This is a critical move on your part.  Your wife is not nearly the moron you are, and she will remind you to set your alarm before going to sleep.  (Nicely done.)

Later that evening, every decision you make considers the 8:00 AM meeting.  Should we start this movie?  What if it keeps us up too late?  Should I eat this extra snack cake so I can skip breakfast in the morning?  And why do we never have sex anymore?  No seriously, why?

Morning comes, the alarm rings, and you press Snooze.  At least you think you do.  It's 50/50 that you actually turned the thing off.  All you really know is that you successfully quieted the stupid thing.

Twenty minutes pass.  Then ten more.  You're dreaming now.  You're on an island, perhaps, or in the mountains.  Or maybe you're dreaming of a bed where people have sex at night.  In any case, soon enough, a simple thought rips your dreamland apart:

8:00 AM MEETING!

Up like a bolt, you check the clock.  [Expletive deleted!]  You're late.  You speed into the bathroom and become Economy of Motion Its Very Self.  The shower is started, towels are thrown, clothes fall, and urine is dispensed.  You will make up the lost time by multitasking!

"No shaving today," you say as you step quickly into the shower.  With this sentence you've gained at least five minutes.  Immediately, you soap up your face, and rinse.  Other parts, and rinse.  Some shampoo, and rinse. More soap, and rinse. 

Golly, rinsing feels good.  Very good.  The water is warm, oh so warm.  My body is finally de-thawing from the bed.  Aahhh, bed.  We used to have fun in that bed…

8:00 AM MEETING!

You've squandered the five minutes you saved from not shaving with unneeded rinsing.  Idiot!  So you kick into overdrive.  One hand brushes teeth, while the other brushes hair.  Shoes and socks are chosen by their proximity to your feet rather than their appropriateness with your attire.  Lotion, of course, is summarily skipped.  Lotion is a luxury for those without 8:00 AM meetings.

Miraculously, you make it to your car only a couple of minutes late.  You know the commute well — if you can get just a tad lucky, maybe speed a little in a couple of spots, you can still make it.

Except you haven't factored in the rest of the planet, all of which is also trying to make it to work by 8:00 AM.  (They must all have 8:00 AM meetings, or something.)  Speeding and luck are no longer options.  The roads are overflowing with cars and you're now hitting lights that you never, ever hit.

But you're an enterprising person — it takes more than a little traffic for you to give up.  You decide that now is the time to explore an alternative route.  These other cars are all driven by average people, lemmings.  You can use your wit to beat them down the map.

So you turn.  Only you don't really know any alternative routes.  The road that looked promising is now curving, taking you AWAY from your office.  And the road has no traffic whatsoever, which in hindsight, is probably not a good sign.  After all, you're not THAT witty.

So now it's 8:00 AM and your car is parked on Farmer Jed's sprawling gravel drive.  You have two choices: 1) Call the office and let them know you're "en route," possibly throwing in a lame excuse about vomiting children, flat tires, or a complete lack of sex at nighttime.  2) Build a time machine.

Being somewhat witty, you build a time machine, enter it, and go back 20 minutes and make it to work in time.  (Nicely done.)

You stroll into the office and, without breaking stride, drop your belongings at your desk on the way to the meeting room.  The office is quiet, giving you a fleeting moment of peace. 

You enter the meeting room proud.  You're not annoyed by the traffic or the fact that someone called an 8:00 AM meeting.  After all, you made it on time, and now you know how a time machine works.  It's all good. 

Except…

The meeting room is empty.  Completely empty.   No lights, paper, people, or projectors.  "Good thing I rushed," you think.  Then, "Slackers.  Can't even make their own meeting." 

You pick the best chair and try to look relaxed, as if you've been there for hours.  No one comes.  You find a position that looks more relaxed, more confident.  No one comes.  You're now genuinely relaxed, even sleepy.  No one comes.  Now you look relaxed, sad, and lonely.  Still, no one comes.

You return to your desk, press a button, and wait for your computer to do its thing.  The office remains quiet. 

A quick look in Outlook confirms your worst fear…

The meeting has been moved to 9:30.