Hiding

I’ve gone and done it. Fucked it all up. So it feels.

I work at a University, (I know, who’d of thought) and we are required to spend 3 days in May not working, and at a conference in a nearby hotel. I can rarely manage to get by on my own at work, let alone surrounded by strangers who are better than I am at what they do. We are required to be cattle’d around from banquet room to “break-out sessions” where you’re beckoned into smaller, banquet style rooms to listen to various colleagues present on new initiatives and projects they’re working on. Then, we’re all corralled back into the bit banquet hall (which could be different than the first) and listen to more speeches about initiatives, lots and lots of talking. It’s painful. But for the most part, I can hide.

Today however, they have a poster session. everyone is again, corralled into a giant room, where tables are set up with posters and presenters. You are expected to walk around, and listen intently to each presenter speak to you, most times directly, about what their poster is about. Yes, it’s akin to a middle school science fair. Truly. There are no chairs, you are forced during this 2 hour period to pretend to know what you’re doing and know your job and provide meaningful feedback as if you were listening more than any other time during these 3 grueling days.

There is too much going on in my life right now that I am hiding. There is a mezzanine-style staircase in the lobby, which thankfully is just far enough out of the way from the poster session that few saw me skip out. Thankfully, it simply looks as if I’m working. I will, shortly. But it’s all very overwhelming. On top of the pretending, everyone who is everyone is forced into this small room, with posters and tables and professionals, and no coffee or chairs. It’s what I suspect hell might be like. Also, instead of a giant coffee table at breakfast with 3 or 4 carafes, (is that what they are?) whatever coffee dispensers are called these days, they had pitchers on tables. A small drivel of cream, and maybe 4 sugars per table in a glass bin. 4 sugars. 4 sugars. For a banquet table of 8. Not to mention that people would eat, then get up to move, leaving the chair open for someone else to sit without utensils and most importantly, coffee. No fucking coffee. Well, I had two, small coffees. I wanted more. It puts me to sleep at work. I need to be heavily medicated for this. Perhaps it’s attributing to my high level of anxiety right now. Perhaps.

There is a lot going on outside of work. I’m not particularly sure what to do anymore. I’m tapped out, emotionally and mentally. I want to relax. I don’t know when the last time I ever felt relaxed was.

I do however remember saying this to myself last year, and the year before, and the year before.

And the year before that too.