Friday, 22 April 2016

O is for Operation

Today is going to look very much like a copy of yesterday, I'm afraid. Operation Camilla is, of course, the main task, as it has been throughout April, but here I don't need to scratch about for an alphabetical justification.

The second task is On The Way, which is the name of the newsletter I mentioned in yesterday's post. I hope to get most of it done today, because the next three days will be a blur of dog shows, but I know this is a vain hope. It is a slow-starting day; it's already 11:30 and I have done nothing except produce another 400 words of Operation Camilla.

I carry on nibbling away and by quarter past one I've got 900 words. Time to get started on the newsletter. This is the quarterly production of East Kew Uniting Church, where Emily and I attend.

Emily is a keen churchgoer. Here, you can see her lighting the first of the Advent candles.

I set up the new copy and send messages to a couple more people whose submissions are still outstanding. This always gets on my nerves every quarter. People in our congregation just don't seem to understand the concept of a deadline. It really annoys me, when I give up my work time for it, that I am having to chase up these grown men and women. I promise myself that next time I will just cut off on the deadline date, just as I promise myself every quarter, but know I won't be able to do it. Church things are different, and sacrificing efficiency for the sake of people's feelings is really a thing.

One thing I do try to stick to is that I don't start putting the newsletter together until ALL the submissions are in, so that I know exactly what I've got and how long everything is. This saves a lot of frustrating shuffling. So, despite the fact I have five dog shows over the next three days and won't be able to work on this again before Monday, I resign myself to putting it off yet again.

Another session brings me to 1100 words and I break for lunch and a little tidying of the house. I'm back at my desk by 2:15, but I'm getting tired now, as much from the thought of the five dog shows I've entered in the next three days as from actual work, and I only get another hundred. Still, 1200 is an okay wordcount for the day, and the day isn't over yet. A walk in the park seems indicated; the fresh air and watching Emily run might get the juices flowing again.

On the way to the park we encounter a gardener who has left a broom athwart the pavement. Emily and I jump over it together, so according to the Neo-Pagans, I believe we are now married. I wonder if this means I am a bigamist. A couple of hours running about and throwing the ball does us both good, and when I return there is a message from my last outstanding contributor saying she cannot provide her stuff until Monday. I grit my teeth and curse, but am secretly relieved.

At a quarter to five, with 1600 words, I call it a day. I could get more, but with the heavy weekend I have coming up, I need some down time.

My next post will be brought to you by the letter P, but given my brutal schedule over the next few days, that may not be tomorrow.

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