The Lost Weekend

I hate colds, for the record.

I have only the vaguest memories of Saturday. Sunday is a little less befogged, because I finally realized the decongestants were actually making me feel worse, adding dizziness and nausea to a nasal waterfall and rib-cracking cough.

I still have the cough and the congestion, but they have eased enough to allow me to once again count myself amongst the living. I went back to work yesterday, after missing 2 days last week, hoping to catch up a little despite a lingering fever and tubercular hack (I figured at the very least the cough would keep people at a distance). No such luck - 10 minutes after I arrived, I was asked to sit in on a 90-minute meeting, 'to take minutes'. It turned into a 210-minute meeting, and has led me to develop some rules about meetings and minutes:

Rule One: I don't take minutes. I'm not a secretary, can't read my own handwriting, and I DON'T TAKE MINUTES. Don't ask me, and especially don't ask me because I happen to be sitting closest to the boardroom when you're looking for a victim.

Rule Two: I was so out of it, it took me a good 15 minutes to even figure out what product line we were talking about. If you want coherent minutes, don't ask the chick suffering fever-induced hallucinations.

Rule Three: If you're having a conference call, don't sit Typhoid Mary and her box of kleenex next to the speaker phone.

Rule Four: If you absolutely can't find anyone else to take minutes and have to ask me, for Pete's sake give me a copy of the agenda so I have some idea what the hell we're talking about.

Rule Five: Once you've asked someone to take minutes, don't bail out of the meeting after 2 hours and expect the minute-taker to take over the running of said meeting, even if you leave her your laptop. And, 120 minutes too late, a copy of the agenda.

Rule Six: If you do bail out and turn the meeting over to your minute-taker, knowing she's sick and only borderline coherent, and people start asking her questions because you've left her in charge, you're responsible for whatever comes out of her mouth. If you can't take the heat, stay away from the fever-victim.

In other news, our balmy weather continues - 13 degrees at 2:30 today, with a little sun peeking between the clouds. And I bought a most beautiful apple on Sunday, meaning to photograph it à la Carmi, but it appears to have made its way into someone's lunch, so you're out of luck.