Meeting Already In Progress

The conversation started out innocently enough but then somebody asked a question that got everyone talking. Their voices went faster and faster. Their tones rose an octave, and their volume increased. The question had hit a nerve.

I was sitting back listening to all of this, safely removed from the melee, and my computer beeped. I turned away from the late afternoon sunshine that was painting the leafless trees by the railroad tracks and looked at my screen.

I had mail.

We are in the teleconference now. Can you join us?

Rats. How did I forget this? I looked at my electronic calendar. There was no appointment there. Rats! Why didn't I enter it into the calendar? I looked at my PDA. No appointment there, either. Rats. Why hadn't I entered it there!? I was rattled.

These were people who should think highly of me. How did I mess up and let this meeting fall thru the cracks? Isn't this just typical, I thought to myself. I began to sweat. I felt the blood drain from my face.

Meanwhile, the conversation on the phone was accelerating towards frenetic. The words were arriving in a swirling stream. What was I going to tell them? How was I going to excuse myself? Would there ever be a break in the talking?

But before I excused myself, I needed to find the dial-in number for the second conference. There was none in the email message, just Can you join us? There was a link, but when I clicked on it, I got a browser error. I was 22 minutes late, and I didn't know how to get in. And I still didn't know how I had forgotten it. I started looking around in my email folders: inbox, trash, appointments, architecture, inbox again. I couldn't find the announcement anywhere.

And the conversation in my ear rattled on.

Now I was really sweating. In desperation, I turned on the fan on my desk and aimed it at my face. It didn't help. I was too flustered. My forgetfulness had done me in again. I was late to an important meeting; I had to bow out of the one I was on; and I didn't know what the number was I needed to dial.

I did, however, have an invitation to a previous meeting hosted by the same guy, so I wrote down his conference number, and I sat back down to wait for a break in the words coming out of my phone. Eventually, I interrupted and apologized that I had to skip out.

I have to leave now, just as this is getting interesting, I said.

There was sudden silence, and then someone said, It is?

And then I was free, but I was still sweating buckets, embarrassed by my memory dysfunction. And then I read the message again.

We are in a teleconference now. Can you join us?

No wonder I didn't schedule it. This wasn't the teleconference. This was just a teleconference. I didn't forget anything. He was asking me to join a meeting to which I wasn't originally invited.

The embarrassment receded. The color came back to my face. I turned off the fan and dialed into their meeting already in progress.

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