Sep 15, 2012

The blog in which my humor is wasted on the church.

I signed up to help the church make phone calls.  For some reason, I must have been on a Jesus high since I guess I didn't really think this through.  Well, this week, they emailed a list of 19 people I was to call and ask to commit to coming to a fundraiser at the church.  I did it tonight, at the table in the back as the migits took turns on the trampoline.  The weather was gorgeous, we had completed a huge project (the trampoline), and the migits were happy.  So, while I was exhausted, I was in a good frame of mind.  But it only took about leaving ten voice mails before I realized that all these people will have to call me back.  And generally- calling me is never a good time.  Then, I get a lady who says she will think it over and call me back.  Her conversation made me realize that I felt like a telemarketer, and I felt like I needed a drink because that was a horrible way to feel.  Then, came the mother ship.  This older lady who ripped into the priest like she was just waiting for my call.  She rambled for over 17 minutes.

I emailed this to the man who is in charge of me getting my volunteer work done.

Mike, That was about as much fun as bathing a cat.  With acid.  And fire.  And nursing a bull shark.  Okay, maybe not that much fun.  Grin.  I called and out of the 19, have two numbers that are wrong/disconnected, left all voice mails except two who answered.  One, gave me a run down as to what is wrong with the church and why she will not participate.  The other says she will call back with an answer, but she didn't sound very convincing.  I tried!  I have notes, and will email the final verdict on the 19th if you want. 

Mike responded- 

"Thanks."  

Okeedokie.  That went well.  I don't think my volunteer posts at the church are really working out.  I think I might do better grooming cats.  With acid.  And fire.  And nursing.... You get the idea.  

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