Today my husband has to do something that has become extremely non stimulating to him. He sees the end of this gig coming and let's just say he's "over it." And it's going to take a big chunk of time.Simply put he doesn't want to go. And he has to do it again several more times. We've all been there. YUK! His lamenting of this chore reminded me of times when I have felt the same. Because of my husband's vision, I drove him to township board meetings he had to report on for the paper. Most of these townships were rural and could be far away so I wouldn't go home. Instead I sat through these things with my husband. And I hated going to them. And I would dread it all day long.
These meetings were very close to the end of me. I would truly be in tears at the thought of going. I would bring a book or a puzzle book to keep myself entertained. But, that only lasted for an hour, if I'm lucky, with my ADD. I would have to move on to something else. So, I'd try listening to the board persons, but they would repeat themselves, and I would become a "bored" person, too. And sometimes the ultimate horror would occur, and they would go into a closed meeting to discuss an issue privately. We would have to wait for their decision. And 4 times out of 5, it took them a half hour to realize they needed to gather more information, so the decision is postponed. I will never forget those torture devises they called metal folding chairs we had to sit on. Oh, my poor back. I would have to get up and take little walks. I walked around the foyer, looking at the little brochures about a water system, or I'd look at the pictures the secretary had on her desk of her grandkids (always cute). Or if I was really lucky they would have a map on the wall and I could look at that for about 10 minutes--the grids are pretty basic and the street names are so creatively named, like 64th Avenue or 126th Street. Yeah, there were bathrooms. But, there was just so much you can do in them, so I would spend time lathering up the soap and blowing bubbles through the ring I formed with my index finger and thumb. I tell you there were times when these meetings would end up lasting up to three, even four, hours! And they were SO boring and their meeting halls were boring and their bathrooms were boring. I hated them. I shudder at the thought of them. And I rejoice that I don't have to go again. Oh, thank you, thank you, I don't have to sit through not even one ever again!!
Let me present my haiku that represents my pain during these meetings. Although they are hard to revisit, I find immense pleasure in knowing that they are a thing of my past--the same pleasure I have knowing my gall bladder pain is gone forever since it's been removed.
Sitting for an hour.
They're only on item three?
Eight more!! (Silent scream).
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