(2:40) Writing in Meetings




Today I sat in a meeting for 2 1/2 hours. It was a good meeting with lots of friendly faces, but it was still a meeting. And what I really wanted to do was write.

Imagination always has a door open. Don't worry, your boss will think you're taking notes.

When you called the meeting to order, I slipped out the window, a wisp of cloud wrapped around the last maple leaves, drifting upward like a plume of smoke. When you projected the budget onto the white screen at the front of the room, I hunkered behind my coffee cup, small as a toy soldier dodging a hail of words. When you pulled the meeting back to the agenda, I was a pirate with a patch over one eye and a green parrot on my shoulder. When you asked if there were any questions, I stuck my gray plume of self like a feather into my tri-cornered hat. When you called for a motion, I picked up a pen. When you called for a show of hands, I began to write.

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