3:07 p.m. - 2007-09-10
But The Clerk Came Back....
Every time I think I'm done dealing with The Clerk, the universe laughs in my face. The most recent drama: the SCC letter.
Our church, as you might recall, is incorporated. Every year we have to send a report regarding any changes to our board of directors. It is very simple paperwork--any adult who has ever applied for a job could probably fill said paperwork out without too much trouble. As punishment for being President, I get to sign them under the dutiful instruction of The Clerk.
After our little aborted mortgage signing debacle, The Clerk decided A) things pertaining to property matters needed to be dealt with in a less harried last-minute confusing fashion and B) we needed to submit the paperwork regarding board changes RIGHT NOW. Yes, I'm well aware of the irony involved when one sees A & B together. No, I don't think she is. Allow me to run down the timetable:
Wednesday--she hears the lawyer wants her to sign the papers
Thursday AFTERNOON--she tells everyone BUT ME she's not signing (not enough notice, not comfortable, blahblahblah). I find out she's not signing by dragging four kids to the lawyer's office.
Thursday NIGHT--she calls & leaves me a message (on the answering machine I never check) asking if she could bring me the SCC paperwork to sign to make the change. It needs to happen before she leaves in the wee hours of Saturday morning to take her son to college.
Friday Morning--The Clerk bothers to send me an e-mail asking if I could sign the papers sometime that day, as she'll be gone to deliver her child to college for about a week. I say no, I'll meet you somewhere--I'm running errands today.
Friday Noon--she replies that she's running errands too, and would be happy to meet me wherever and whenever. I reply with my schedule for the day and recommend she stop by the restaurant where I'm meeting my friend for her 30th birthday dinner. After much "I don't want to interrupt your family time" from her, I convince The Clerk to meet me at the restaurant. The other option was her meeting me at a shoe store.
****This woman knows my children. She's had them in the church nursery often enough. What crack was she smoking to think that I'd want to deal with PAPERWORK in the middle of a SHOE STORE while trying to herd FirstBorn Hyperactive Git of Doom and his little sister, Screaming Harlot?!?! Seriously? Meeting me at the restaurant made so much more sense on so many levels... and yet I had to spend five minutes *selling* the idea to her. It makes my head hurt just thinking about it....
Friday 6:00pm--less than 24 hours after she sent her diatribe remarking about the last minute emergency nature of everything related to property matters, I had signed the papers for her to mail to the SCC. Papers which she insisted on explaining to me. I could have read it faster and asked questions if I was confused, but she must be used to dealing with slow, barely literate people. One would think that after 2 years of being on a board with me and having me follow her tormented verbose emails that she'd know I could read.... I ignored her and read everything and signed it. Even though I saw a couple of problems. Because I know that PAPERWORK CAN BE FIXED LATER. That is the nature of paperwork....
I told you all that story so I could tell you this next one. Alas, I must tell it later, as I'm getting that "the house is making my neck hurt" look from NowMyHusband....
