W is for Way - On The Way, to be precise. Our church newsletter. Over the last few days I've got it finished and the master copy is now occupying pride of place on the front passenger seat of my car. Now to get the copies printed.
In normal time, this is not my job - I produce the master copy and deliver it to the minister, who will make the copies for our congregation. However, we are not in normal time just now; we are between ministers, so we must all muck in and do it ourselves. The parish photocopy machine has been moved into the minister's office behind the sanctuary, in what would be the vestry in a high church parish. I must co-ordinate with the lady who has the church keys and knows how to work our very high-tech colour photocopier. She is to call me this morning to arrange when we can do this, so all I have to do at present is await her call.
|This is our church, where we will be making up the copies of the newsletter.|
I wait at home all morning, despite a number of errands I want to run, but the call doesn't come. At quarter past twelve I leave to run my errands. There are no messages, though, when I return home. I have lunch and take Emily out to the park. Still nothing. Suddenly the last couple of weeks catch up with me, and I sleep all afternoon in a big furpile with Emily and Ferret.
At 1745 I give up. W is for Wasted Day.
Tomorrow will be brought to you by the letter X.