Member-only story
Once again, my brain is a bit fried.
I spent about an hour of my afternoon as a speaker/panelist for a “What is Our City Doing To Help Businesses?” town hall on Zoom.
I say “Zoom,” but was actually just on my phone. I did not log on through our city’s VPN, as I am supposed to, because it likes to kick me off of it at the most inopportune times. As a matter of fact, last week the fucking thing kicked me off just a minute or so before I was to speak at a City Council meeting on a new small business relief program that I spent about fifty hours putting together.
As I discussed the tense moment with my boss following the meeting, he told me that our IT director asshole asked him, “Where the Hell is [myself]?” when that happened. I furiously dialed the Chicago area Zoom number that I basically know by heart, (312) 626–6799, entered the meeting number and my ID number as a panelist just as the one item on the Agenda was turned over to me.
Lucky for me, I tend to work well under pressure, just like I did today.
Did I write “pressure”? That may just be the understatement of the year. Perhaps the understatement…
