Navigating the waters


I get 10 extra hours a week allocated to the interim executive director’s job. So far they have all been spent sitting in meetings where people talk in initials. When I’m not sitting in a meeting, I am trying to find the meeting. The last two were at places no longer on the map and sent my GPS into terminal search mode. Today’s meeting was at a former residential facility circa  “insane asylum” and ” mentally retarded” long before “developmentally delayed” or even the current “intellectually challenged.” Regardless, the place is a large campus of identical decaying, boarded up buildings and just plain creepy.  But I found it even though the road I was supposed to take to get there was closed off.Yesterday was another story.  I was directed to a former mental hospital complex where isolated buildings still housed some drug rehab services. Also a boarded up decaying mess. I was driving around following the signs to the organization I was looking for but didn’t seem to exist, when I spotted another car doing the same thing. We were obviously lost together.  When I caught up to her, she turned out to be the grant writer from an organization with whom we are partnering on a project. Not so bad. We were so late, we just went for coffee instead and compared notes.

Unlike me, Rachel is totally entertained by the touchy feely nature of meetings in the social service world.  I don’t mind but they do seem to go on forever. She agreed citing a hurt feeling could set you back 40 minutes while everyone dealt with it. I loved  her  meeting story when some actually replied to her  suggestion, “Let me unpack that and get back to you.”


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