I love meetings. In roughly the same way the Jews loved Hitler.
They exist for no particular purpose other than to take up time and resources. Nothing ever gets done at a meeting, with the possible exception of scheduling the next meeting. Some meetings exist for the sole purpose of planning the next meeting.
Today’s gem of time-wasting, which cost two hours of my life, involved hooking an internal company website to the internet. We told the people in charge of this software to call the consultants and ask them a single question that would allow us to make this happen. A month and a half later, someone scheduled a meeting. This little get-together involved eight people at very least, plus walk-ins. Two highly-paid consultants plus at least six of us were piled into the meeting room for no apparent reason.
By the time the proceedings got started, we managed to explain to the Highly Paid Consultants what the issue was (we need to hook the internal software to the bloody internet). This produced Instant Talk with Very Little Results. There were stern warnings about connecting our software to the network (HACKING ALERT!), bizarre assumptions about our network (you guys have a firewall? Wow!), and all sorts of suggestions about how we could accomplish our goal differently than we had attempted.
After we pulled one of our admins off one of the Highly Paid Consultants , we sat back down and listened to his ideas. Since we have never worked with Websphere, we let the experts lead. Or rather, we let the Highly Paid Constultants lead. It was wrong either way you look at it.
Two hours later Websphere hadn’t budged. It kept steadfastly refusing to accept the (allegedly) required change. I looked at my coworker, the admin that needed to be pulled from the Highly Pulled Consultant, to make sure he wasn’t creeping up on said Consultant again. He’s very sneaky that way and frequently has to be pulled off something. It’s particularly embarrassing when he has to be pulled off inanimate objects (althought it’s hilarious to watch).
The entire two hours sitting there made me long for the excitement of golf. Or counting the sheets of paper in a reem. Or counting arm hairs (anyone’s).
Two hours wasted. No solution. All this can possibly mean is what everyone fears most: MORE MEETINGS.