Closing in on 9am. Preparations, too: Collecting information from too many sources: System details, change history, resolved issues, resolved ones. Trying to make sense of what they have in common, ignoring contradictions for now. The challenges of the factual will arise soon enough anyway. Hoping for patterns to emerge and for the imposter to stay reasonably quiet.
(Vague agendas. Or: How meetings change and take its own direction if including people that weren't initially assumed to be around. And the challenge to still move into the direction planned without too many detours or intervention. Flow as a goal.)
Somewhere near 9am. Dense clouds pushing across the northern roofs while office routine unfolds on all floors seen from up here. Meeting room prepared for a crowd of people again, an interesting get-together of tie-bearers and youngsters in way too big hoodies. Disjoint worlds, first contact, so it seems. (And coffee as the lowest common denominator. If all else fails.)
Closing in on 9am. Drafts, templates, roadmaps. Wondering where to see the line between sane structural preparations and overhead that just consumes too much time without adding to the result. But maybe there are too many sides to every story, as always, and maybe being stuck in a certain mode of work doesn't ease this decision.
9am. Broken audio, metal echoes, meeting seems to have moved into some rather weird place. But it's interesting to drop a word or two and enjoy the effect of it rippling away into an unknown digital distance. (Too: Working around issues instead of fixing them as a strategy to keep tasks on someone elses desk. Even if it means sitting in the shade of a pile of workarounds at some point. But at least it's not shaking much yet.)
Closing in on 9am. First meetings. Short distance run. Sound of a city resuming work in the neighbourhood. A phone goes unanswered, a door is harshly closed. People are hiding their flats and selves behind darkened windows as the sun slowly rises above the roofs.
Closing in on 4pm. Fragmented communication. Also: That context breach that happens when the other side steps out but fails to mute microphone and and cover the lens. Left with the awkward feeling of a distant invisible watcher, albeit just by accident.
Später tauscht man Kaffee gegen Wasser, weil zittrige Unruhe die Konzentration überschreibt und sich das eigene Agieren und Reagieren zunehmend fremder, mechanischer anfühlt. Immer wieder Etappen von Geplantem im Dynamischen. Dazu allgemeine Wochenanfangsstimmung, begleitet von der kurz aufflammenden Euphorie, in der Zeit bis zum nächsten Freitag Großes zu vollbringen und einige lang liegende Checkboxes endlich abhaken zu können. Hausmeister und sein Gehilfe trotten mit Pizzakartons durch den Hof in Richtung Treppenhaus, zwei Etagen weiter unten nehmen Konferenzteilnehmer ihre Plätze ein, aus der entfernten Stille wirkt die sprachlose Kommunikation, mit der man sich gegenseitig den eigenen Status, die eigene Wichtigkeit umreißen will, krampfhaft und grotesk. (Wenn die Augen anders fokussieren, sehen sie stattdessen den Baum, der sich vage auf den Fenstern spiegelt. Und vermutlich ist dies die bessere Unterhaltung, für diesen Moment.)