I had been in Florida from Wednesday until about 2 hours ago for a consulting gig. Besides the drama of spending time with the aforementioned difficult CEO, I also dealt with being waaaaay overscheduled. HOW overscheduled?! Well, let me share my schedule: interviews every 30 minutes with key stakeholders ON THE HALF HOUR. Which means what, my little chickadees? Yes! NO time was built in to the schedule to allow E to either eat or urinate. I'm not kidding. Finally after 4 hours I just politely said to the next round of interviewees, "would you mind giving me just a moment?" and running to my 90-second break from the action. During my 90 second break, picture the following occurring (and promise to still respect me in the morning):
Me on a hotel stall toilet peeing.
Me on a hotel stall toilet peeing while listening to my voice mails on my cell phone.
Me on a hotel stall toilet peeing while listening to my voice mails on my cell phone while eating half of a Balance bar.
Yeah. I know that is revolting; to be eating, talking and peeing simultaneously. But I had no choice. I was getting shpilkedic (sp?) having had no breakfast, and my bladder, which has been discussed in this blog perhaps more than any of you would care for, was about to explode. Not to mention that I have other potential clients of my OWN that I needed to touch base with during business hours. Every single activity was necessary. And with only 90 seconds at my disposal, I did what any other person would do: I ate food while in a public toilet while peeing while chatting to another person.
Nothing says "high powered consultant" like eating food on the commode. I've hit the big time, baby!!! Up next for me: clipping my toenails on the metro while reading Foreign Affairs while shouting "Sell! Sell!" into my cell phone. Aaah. Glory Days.