Do you know the worst thing about having to go to work on a SNOW DAY, when all the kids get to stay home? That's a rhetorical question. There's not a simple answer. There's a plethora of answers. Here are a few.
There's a surprise meeting of which you were never officially informed.
The meeting is for EVERYONE in the building, meaning that the territorial seating arrangement has been usurped by festival seating.
If you are lucky enough to get your regular seat at the back corner of the room, a new guy working with an old guy sits directly behind you, almost in your hip pocket, on a chair he has pulled from another table, and COUGHS throughout the meeting, coughs so that you can feel his fetid explosive exhalations on your back like a nuclear wind after an atom bomb test.
The first speaker chooses to put his photo display on an easel and stand directly in front of a window so that the snow in the parking lot behind him burns out the retina of any conscientious employee who shows him respect by trying to find his head in that glare and make eye contact.
The person who ends up at your table, sitting directly across from you, is one you are not especially fond of sitting next to at your cafeteria lunch table every day, and sits with legs crossed on a cushy rolly chair, jammed up against the table, shaking a foot, so that any time you try to write, your script looks like the work of a palsied nonagenarian.
After the first meeting, there's a ten-minute break before a second meeting, and then people such as Val who give the important tests in core subjects must stay for yet a THIRD meeting.
I know it's March. But my attitude is still in February. Give me a few weeks, and I'll be loving my job again. But maybe not the meeting part.