I've just sent this email to the PCC. There was nothing else to do.
I'm awfully sorry. I have left undone those things that I ought to have done (I draw a veil over the rest of the confession) and cannot put it right as I have lost my vital notebook.
I have written most of the minutes but I have no notes. So they are more of a draft than you usually receive.
The things that you need to check are your names - if you were not at the meeting, please tell me and I'll shift you from 'present' to 'apologies'.
Proposers and seconders - corrections appreciated.
Dates - I'd just written '4th Tuesdays except Dec.' which was limited help.
Reports - that was where I'd finished altogether so I wrote down what I'd said and ... look, I'm embarrassed enough.
Help? Please? And *usual secretary* , you are laughing at me. I can hear it from here.
love Z*
Does this sound mortified enough?
Well, it wasn't. I then sent the email without attaching the minutes. My reputation for efficiency is entirely shot and no one will ever trust me with any job ever again.
Hey, look on the bright side!
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13 comments:
I think it does sound mortified enough, but I hope you are not really that mortified. One swallow doesn't make a summer, as I'm sure you're well aware.
I presume the PCC is the parochial church council?
I'm pretty embarrassed, Dandelion. I do tell people I'm hopelessly vague but cover it well and I have proved it rather more comprehensively than I would have wished.
PCC - yes, that's right. I'm a churchwarden too, heh heh, irreverent little madam that I am.
Like I said, one swallow doesn't make a summer. And one lost notebook doesn't undo all the things you ever did right and brilliantly.
Did I ever tell you my most embarrassing moment? I think that's one for my next post.
z. drinking on the job again I see.
I've never understood why they're called minutes anyway. They go on for hours.
Dandelion, do tell!
Jen, I'm.. lost for words.
Murph - they record boring minutiae, perhaps?
Jen, *found words* this is how I talk, with or without the addition of alcohol. I'm a bit worried now, I thought it was perfectly normal.
And now they can put their Christianity to work and forgive me. And I will call on my humility and thank them.
Bugger.
I thought you'd swung that with good grace until you pressed 'send' without attaching minutes... d'oh!
Yeah. D'oh indeed. Bugger.
Still, it reinforced my ditziness, and that might not be a bad thing in the long run.
Full marks for conscientiousness! They should be so lucky.
I've just had one reply so far, from someone who thinks they look all right. If they only knew.
Well, it's a bit icky, and female, I don't know if it's suitable really. Then again, it might help to put The Notebook Fiasco into perspective...
For now, I shall just leave you with my favourite motto:
"It could be worse".
I think my epitaph should be 'She didn't actually do that much damage'
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