You peek at your watch, you have another five minutes. Fifteen, if you deduct the minutes you have added to keep on the safe side. Talk of gender equality, you think bitterly to yourself seventeen minutes later, when you are finally rushing to your car. The preschool closes in twenty-five minutes, and you have carefully planned out every single minute, while the other seven directors — the men — who had sat with you at the board meeting are still going strong. They don't have to pick up a girl from preschool.
“A digital revolution,” that is the topic. If you doesn't take into account all the discussions over the past two years, then you could say that we have been discussing the “new” topic quite intensively for almost three months now. The amount of nonsense brought up during the meetings can only compete with the number of empty words uttered. And it's not like you haven't explained or made remarks. But at this point, despite the fact that it sounds almost illogical, it seems the term “the proof is in the pudding” is still not clear to everybody. At least the Big Boss understands it: the man who appreciates you, who promoted you. But you know how it is — organizational politics.
Once you are the car, you start unbuttoning your suit. A power suit, it's called. How ridiculous to give such a name to a modern-day girdle. At the first traffic light (three and a half minutes, with a huge television screen flashing commercials about nothing) you are already in your sneakers.
The Big Boss is probably the only one who understands about the proof being in the pudding, as you do. But he belongs to a different generation. He relies on his instincts, but not only. And in the meanwhile, as expected: the never-ending meetings, the reports, the conclusions, the audits, the follow-up meetings. Just a minute, stop! The audit for the quarter is coming up… and once again — meetings, reports, conclusions, more audits.
Just as long as you are not late for preschool. Honestly, you have never been late. But it's your biggest fear. Screw them at work. Your daughter will not be the last one there. That's what matters right now.
Yesterday you sent an email to the Big Boss. It was quite a big deal on your part, because what you sent was what you had been working on for the past month — the month when you had had enough of all the talk, and simply wanted to find the people who would actually be able to help you with the “revolution.” The people from the other company, who had indeed helped you, also joked about it. Okay, come on let's just start the revolution — said the man. And let's finish it in a month from now, said the woman. Yep, there is no time to waste, all three of you agreed. All of you had kids to pick up from preschool.
In fact it wasn't even necessary to explain to them all that much what was really important. Maybe when one has kids to pick up from preschool, or school, or when one has a clear set of priorities it becomes almost self-evident.
The Big Boss was awed. In a good sense, that is. He wrote: “OMG!” And you have to know him to understand just how awesome that is, coming from him. In all honesty, the guy is really stingy when it comes to complementing, and that's putting it mildly. In the email you sent him there were only two words: “The pudding”, and a link to the digital revolution you had created in a month.
You were not late. As always. Your little girl is already eating a pear you had sliced for her at the second traffic light (two minutes and twenty seconds, with no big screen), and you are sitting on a bench talking with other mothers.
You know there is still a struggle ahead. But what matters is sitting next to you right now, eating her pear and smiling. And also the fact that you are simply proud of yourself. Because, after all, you must admit to yourself — you are pretty darn good at it.