The epic tale of the conference bumblebee

Today’s post is brought to you by my husband, who spent the week at a traditional academic torture ritual conference. He shared with me his full set of notes, which I have annotated for your enjoyment. (Notes with actual useful information have been removed.)

Day 2 got off to an exciting start:

Chair mistook me for the first speaker. I look nothing like him and am not sitting anywhere near the podium.

But the excitement level quickly dropped.

Bored out of my mind and there is a bumblebee buzzing the light over my head. It’s dropped right next to me once. I moved my chair back and am hoping that it drops on [co-worker] instead of me.

Things continued in this vein for some time…

This speaker could put [Little Boy] to sleep pretty easily, I think.

What was going to happen next?

The bumblebee hasn’t moved.

OK, we could probably guess what would happen.

Speaker’s definition of “exciting” is highly debatable.

But it was important to pay attention.

[Same co-worker], stop looking at my computer and my phone.

And then, a plot twist!

Damn, bumblebee is moving. It’s walking around… trying to crawl unsuccessfully on the light. It might fall again… and it crawls on top of the light, where I can’t see it. Gggrrrr. Please, don’t fall on me.

The talks went on. And on.

Brevity in a title is your friend. I almost fell asleep reading his.

At least something was still interested.

Bumblebee iiiisssss bbbaaaack!!

And on. And on.

Another speaker surprised by the 5-minute warning. You do have presenter tools on your Mac, right?

The saga wouldn’t be complete if we didn’t understand each character’s motivation.

So, I’ve come to the conclusion that the bumblebee is trying to bore itself to death using today’s talks.

Finally, the thrilling conclusion:

The bumblebee (or carpenter bee, as [different co-worker] said it might have been) seems to have left during lunch.