Lost between meetings

“The world has gone mental.”

…

I could leave it at that.

But let’s elaborate.

I am not entirely sure when it happened. Somewhere along the way, I started living in meetings.

Remote work made it easy. They are mostly online meetings, euphemistically called “calls.” They last thirty minutes. Or an hour. Never twenty-seven. Never fifty-two.

If the last 30 free minutes of your day survive the calendar bingo — unlucky. Let’s schedule it there. To discuss the other meetings. To wrap up. Sync. Align.

“Oh, a colleague started another meeting three minutes earlier, I need to go.”

NEED TO GO TO PEE.

When do you go to the toilet? Let alone eat?

And most importantly… when the hell do you actually work?

Part of a PM’s (not sure what PM stands for? read here) crusade is the need to align and lead across departments—tech, marketing, business, and C-level—to make sure everyone is on board with what the product actually does and should do. That is just the way it is. On the other hand, we are also responsible for bringing solutions* *to the table that are essential for further development and no one can make that happen for us.

Somehow, this used to be manageable before the full remote/hybrid era. Do not get me wrong—I am the biggest advocate for remote work. I think computer jobs are practically designed for it. No commuting, no traffic jams, no small talk, and moving hair-wash day around as I wish (this is a big one for women!).

And I am still perplexed if the amount of meetings is a correlation or causation. This phenomenon gained so much momentum during the pandemic that it was officially called a “Zoom fatigue”. But let’s get back to the point.

Let’s imagine your day:

• You get up, brush your teeth.
• Grab breakfast.
• Open your laptop.
• First meeting starts at 8:30 (or 7:30, with your boss, as that is the only time they can do it).
• Back-to-back meetings until 17:30.
• If you’re lucky you get some lunch while on mute.
• Teams messages going beep beep beep while you try to reply.
• Colleagues trying to call you while you are already on a call (there is a special place in hell for these).
• Emails, oh bloody emails!

At the end you are:

• drained
• overstimulated
• short-circuited
• fed up with talking or listening
• shaky and possibly with a headache
• bored to death

And most importantly…

NOTHING GOT DONE AND YOU ARE NOT ABLE TO THINK.

A while ago, I spent some time working from my parents’ house, where my mum witnessed my workday. As a clinical psychologist, she was totally horrified by the amount of unnecessary information passed around in meetings—what, in her eyes, was “just the self-absorption of my colleagues’ egos”. I got a lecture about the mind’s ability to concentrate, information overload, the dangers of multitasking, and the overall “what the hell is wrong with people” look.

I agreed with all the points made—I just didn’t know what the way out of corporate reality could be. There used to be focus time in our calendars, but now everything has a higher priority. You can focus when you are on holiday!

After a while, patterns start to emerge. There are a few types of people in meetings:

Those leading and actively participating (rightfully).

Those actively participating by repeating the words of those in category one.

Those who are just…there.

Somehow, I tend to blame the last two categories for the mess we have found ourselves in. I do not envy anyone, though—this system is damaging to everyone’s psyche in the long run. I have known people who wrapped their whole identity around being heard and seen in meetings, while deep down fighting the worst imposter syndrome. I have known people who lead a whole day of meetings only to do the actual work at night. I have known people who agreed to every meeting, because they could simply do the job alongside it—no real input ever required. By the nature of things, if not enough people truly push back against this fashion (and looking at the bullet points, we are losing) there is no real opportunity to change it.

There is one more significant by-product of “more people, more meetings” agenda:

a lower chance of anyone owning a decision.

This risk-distribution ritual, together with a potential for ego theatre, creates a self-feeding monster machine, that hides discomfort, boosts ego, and shows (but does not achieve) productivity. At the end of the day, the dopamine of “work done” bubbles out faster than any cheap Instagram thrill.

This is literally a doom scroll of your work life.

Currently, I am enjoying a bit of much-needed Product Discovery time (clock is ticking, but no pressure). I have been able to cut down some meetings and actually focus on what matters—identifying problems and pain points, drafting and validating prototypes with people who matter most to the business—the customers.

My brain has entered a whole new dimension of creativity, one I had not recognized for many years. It reminded me of simpler times, when you could be late for a meeting because you were deeply focused on creating something new.

I discovered that I can deliver in crazy, hell-bent times. But those delivered solutions become so focused on the details that the bigger picture disappears.

Then, unexpectedly—after the most productive period I have had in months—my mind started gaslighting me:

• Am I doing a job worth the money if I do not sit on calls all day?
• How do I convince my bosses that I am actually working if they don’t see me?
• Does anyone appreciate the value of deeply thinking something through?

I have no solutions, let alone suggestions. Visibility has replaced value — not only on social media, but at work as well. And the quiet ones — the ones who think, design, and build — are left wondering if they exist at all.