jakorte's blog

Because our mandatory meetings can run a bit long, I buy a few bags of candy.
Because we’ll be filling out more than a few forms, I take a few extra pens.
Because I am always documenting, I pack my trip journal with graph paper in the back - so I can make neat and groovy lists.
Because I’m nervous, I pick up a venti Espresso Truffle from Starbucks.
Because I'm directionally impaired, I bring along printed computer maps to my destination.
Even though I’ve been there more than a few times, I also load the address into my phone’s GPS.
Just in case the paper maps fly out the window, or spontaneously combust.

Now for the hard part:
I want to look like someone who is capable of leading a group in a professional manner.
I want to look like someone who is capable of dry-walling and using power tools.
Not prissy, but competent. Not sloppy, but work-able.
Jeans are a given. Sneakers, boots or dress shoes? T-shirt or blouse? Sweater or jacket?
I finally settle on a black ruffle-collared t-shirt, jeans, maroon boots, a cute little maroon & orange plaid jacket, and a barely visible light pink rhinestone nose stud. I think I look capable, but I’m not sure of what.

The meeting is scheduled to begin at 3:00 pm. It’s a two and a half-hour drive, so I leave at noon. Just in case.

On my way to the meeting, traffic on 94 becomes heavy. I merge onto an atypical Saturday afternoon M-59 and decelerate to a standstill. When my phone rings, I fear the worst - others are also caught in this slow moving muck.
But the call came from my brother. The whole family was on speakerphone relaying that my nephew had made his first touchdown.
I cheered and offered congratualtions, and we all signed off.
The call was followed shortly by a text asking if I was ok, because I sounded stressed.

"Yeah," I text back, because I am sitting perfectly still on the highway. "I am stressed. I am running late, stuck in traffic, my coffee's run it's course, and when I finally do get where I’m going I’m expected to give a two-hour presentation, and then TALK to people!"

Venting helps me relax a bit. I text the co-leader to relate my situation, and sort of calmly soldier on.
Eventually, traffic thins, and begins to move along at an acceptable rate.
I arrive safely and in plenty of time to become even more stressed out because there are very few cars in the parking lot.
Suppose nobody shows?