Meeting Agenda: Sweet FA
Our group met last Wednesday - actually it was the Wednesday before last. In the midst of going about the million other things I do, none of which are ever discussed here, the week before last was particularly busy. Legitimately busy, not 'I couldn't be bothered going to my friends/workmates/sister's partners party/get together/engagement/housewarming/bar be que because I am busy' busy - I meant I was busy, I had deadlines and turn around times, and things that had to be done.
The thing I hate most about group work (yeah you better believe I am blogging about gawd damn group work again) is the lame pretension that passes for commitment to the task at hand. Lame meetings, lame meetings that could be conducted over a phone, lame unproductive shitbag meetings. The three post 9am morning hours of the Wednesday before last were spent at work cursing to a work-mate about the intense level of annoyance that exists just below my outer surface (a surface constructed entirely of spite) with regards to stupid meetings.
To me it makes approximately zero sense to drive an hour, to sit out the front of a Library and look at each other and say, "You know what, I'm... yeah" while trying to hide the extent of nothing you have done to contribute to the assignment so far. It makes no sense when you can guarantee that two of the five members of the group won't be there. I haven't fucking met two of the members of my group yet (one of whom was described as a 'space cadet' by one of the attending members) - we hand the fucking assignment in next week. Obviously the have yet to be 'rostered' on at the same lame meeting yet. Horse Shit.
The hearty level of cussing in the above paragraphs probably doesn't reflect the true level of couldn't-give-a-fuckedness I have about whether or not other group members show up. I really couldn't care, it's just that them not being there underlines how pointless being there is. In the end, we resolved to, against better judgement, set an artificial deadline for handing out work up to the organiser (see also: masochist).
We decided to make last Friday the day we would send through any sections we had finished to the poor bastard who threw himself upon the poisoned chalice of collating the assignment. You would not believe it, the sort of bullshit I ordinarily leave till the very last minute, got emailed through completed to the gimp on Friday. I'm not entirely sure what happened, but the salivating thought of not having to spend the last two days before the assignment is due in constant contact with a group of people hitched together by one assignment, 1500 words of killer, 3500 words of filler, and three dozen excuses for not having completed work - probably spurred me to get it done in advance.
(Enny - 'The character Kerouac describes is listlessly floating through the ether of a mid 1950's serviceman shack community life.' I love the word ether - I choose to tag no one.)
The thing I hate most about group work (yeah you better believe I am blogging about gawd damn group work again) is the lame pretension that passes for commitment to the task at hand. Lame meetings, lame meetings that could be conducted over a phone, lame unproductive shitbag meetings. The three post 9am morning hours of the Wednesday before last were spent at work cursing to a work-mate about the intense level of annoyance that exists just below my outer surface (a surface constructed entirely of spite) with regards to stupid meetings.
To me it makes approximately zero sense to drive an hour, to sit out the front of a Library and look at each other and say, "You know what, I'm... yeah" while trying to hide the extent of nothing you have done to contribute to the assignment so far. It makes no sense when you can guarantee that two of the five members of the group won't be there. I haven't fucking met two of the members of my group yet (one of whom was described as a 'space cadet' by one of the attending members) - we hand the fucking assignment in next week. Obviously the have yet to be 'rostered' on at the same lame meeting yet. Horse Shit.
The hearty level of cussing in the above paragraphs probably doesn't reflect the true level of couldn't-give-a-fuckedness I have about whether or not other group members show up. I really couldn't care, it's just that them not being there underlines how pointless being there is. In the end, we resolved to, against better judgement, set an artificial deadline for handing out work up to the organiser (see also: masochist).
We decided to make last Friday the day we would send through any sections we had finished to the poor bastard who threw himself upon the poisoned chalice of collating the assignment. You would not believe it, the sort of bullshit I ordinarily leave till the very last minute, got emailed through completed to the gimp on Friday. I'm not entirely sure what happened, but the salivating thought of not having to spend the last two days before the assignment is due in constant contact with a group of people hitched together by one assignment, 1500 words of killer, 3500 words of filler, and three dozen excuses for not having completed work - probably spurred me to get it done in advance.
(Enny - 'The character Kerouac describes is listlessly floating through the ether of a mid 1950's serviceman shack community life.' I love the word ether - I choose to tag no one.)
posted by The Student at 12:43 AM
1 Comments:
I'm much more loving the ranting than the intellectualism ;o)
I am yet to get a group work assignment, but I'm already planning to use my 'mature age student/full time public servant' excuse to avoid face to face meetup. Tho I might end up being the collating SUCKA for fear of letting a 17 year old be the one to finalise my work...
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