Meetings: Not!

The older I get, the crankier--is this standard? 

Cranky as in "less willing to go along with something I don't want to do."  Or to put up with conditions I don't like.

A couple of days ago I went to a supermarket so I pick up a few things for dinner.  As I walked in the door I was assaulted by loud music--it was music of my era, but way LOUD.  I couldn't think, and I nearly bolted.   I asked a woman near me in the produce department if she liked it.   "It's a bit much,"  she said. No luck finding an employee to turn down the volume, but I'm thinking of writing a letter. Or, more likely,  I just won't go back.

I volunteer at two worthy nonprofits, and lately they've summoned me to meetings or workshops. One, as I've written here, was to figure out how to cover for the director of the Berkeley Food Pantry, who was hospitalized.  Made sense. Emergency situation.  I went.  Much accomplished.  But now another program I'm involved in at the Pantry wants volunteers to meet.  And the other place where I volunteer is summoning us all for an evening workshop on "Death and Dying."  Don't wanna! 

Meetings were the bane of my existence when I was employed. I rarely felt that anything got accomplished, and they were an interruption in my very full schedule of deadlines. (This was before e-mail, however. Has that taken the place of meetings? Or does e-mail summon people to more meetings?)

TVs in hospital waiting rooms also drive me nuts.   The night my father died, my sister, Jerry, and I waited at midnight in a large room with one other person and a TV blaring.  Finally, someone stood on a chair and turned it off.  Many times I've canvassed waiting rooms to see if anyone's watching the TV, and then I hunt down the remote to mute the volume, or I ask at the desk if something can be done.

I don't want to hurt people's feelings!  I don't want to trample on their rights!    But I need to stand up for mine.  Or maybe I'm just a curmudgeon.