Now I have reports or minutes to write up from five different meetings and two more meetings to prepare for, as well as work to do. And the church quinquennial inspection report has arrived, which mentions £10,000 to be spent on repair work within 18 months or so and another £25,000 in five years. It is my job to explain this to the PCC, who are expecting to fund a benefice project next year as well.
Right. Now I'm off to get the room ready for the churchwardens' meeting. Tables, chairs, glasses and jugs of water and bowls of sweets. I have brought in the tables from the bier shed already, which was very smart of me, and there isn't coffee tonight.
I prepared for this deficit with a glass of cabernet sauvignon, am I not a sensible woman?
Update, 4 1/2 hours later
Now, am I not a daft woman? It transpired that the secretary had had to give her apologies at the last, for it is her birthday and her husband had arranged a Surprise Night Out. Would someone else take minutes, please? ... Well, I'd already noted who was present and who had sent apologies and no one else offered. The PA would type them up, added the Rector, helpfully. So I spent a page or more writing neatly, concisely and, too, precisely. Then I had to speak (I get compelled that way) and started to have to scribble odd notes.
There's a committee meeting here tomorrow night. Yesterday, I noticed a cobweb draped prettily along the drawing room ceiling. Maybe some preliminary housework would be in order.
I set out six bowls of sweets and I didn't touch a single one. I came home and drank some more wine and ate a clementine. I shall now read the paper and feel slightly lonely.