I never look forward to meetings, and I never expect meetings to be enjoyable and wahoo-inducing. Last night’s band booster meeting did NOT pleasantly surprise me, but as I sat and listened to people speaking in volumes higher than 6 (I rarely go above a 4.), I came up with an idea for a new way to lace my sneakers AND an amazingly genius idea about the potential rights of meeting participation. The idea? If you have volunteered at four events (or have attended four previous meetings), you are handed five tickets at the beginning of the meeting. Each ticket allows you to speak out one time. If you have not volunteered or attended any previous meetings, you may speak up only one time and then you must sit quietly (head nods and shakes are allowed) and rest assured knowing that you will get TWO tickets at the next meeting. Use your tickets wisely.
Oh, I know. Democracy and freedom of speech and God gave us a larynx for a reason, but still. Last night’s meeting went on for two hours and my anxiety reached the “dripping from my ears” level as we discussed the prevention of potential non-conformity and maybe I should just stay home from these things, but I never will. Why? Because I care, and because I want to be the first in line if there is a bread pudding tasting. (So far? No bread pudding. Yet, I will continue to dream because the dream of bread pudding is better than no chance of bread pudding. The dream of bread pudding is what gets me off of the couch.)
It has been a high-anxiety week at the House of Pudding. I’m blaming it on a few things that are definitely not blame-worthy (no cauliflower for my lentils, dog hair on my pants), and I’m slowly doing a fairly good job of crawling out of my overly-charged funk.
The reason for no cauliflower for my lentils: I forgot to buy cauliflower when I was at the store.
I’m at the bakery again, and I know the thing in the circle has something to do with making bread, but to me it is a duck who is feeling a little out of place. (I am someone who has fed lots of bread to lots of ducks. I’m positive that like me, this duck will come around.)
Last week I cleaned out my craft closet and I bagged up all my wool. (Insert Baa, Baa, Black Sheep reference. Be reminded once again that Baa, Baa, Black Sheep has the same melody as The Alphabet Song and also Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.)