Chairman of the Bored

So, the church that I semi-regularly attend decided to put me on its board. I like to think that was intended to be a honor, but I’m thinking currently that my name was 17th on a list with 16 crossed out names proceeding mine.

That alone shows you where the bar is set administratively speaking.

For a congregation that publicly prides itself on openess, welcoming, anything is possible, tolerance, etc., we got issues.

One congregant didn’t get his way during the budgeting process last year and couldn’t even get a cohort, so he has resorted to tantrums so infantile, he has become his own greatest liability. The constant stream of inaccuracies and inconsistencies in his complaints make me spend meeting time looking for a trap door to leap out of, but to no avail.

The budget process hasn’t changed one iota since I’ve been attending and he was alledging that it was closed to members. He didn’t take into account that anything is closed to members if said members can’t get their heads out of their asses to care.

There is an audit committee working there as well. It’s three guys who don’t necessarily work as in concert as they should. I got a very well thought out memo about it, and my reaction was “Now, it’s a problem?” The hell were you waiting for??

And apparently, gossip mills move quick and none of us are ever too far from trying to find a seat at the cool kids table at our seventh grade cafeteria.

People gossip, but don’t have the intellectual inertia to go find anything out. There should be a separate treasurer from book keeper but nobody is stepping up. The out sick office manager should say what is going on, instead of the board looking like they are trying to fire her, which is not the case, just want her healthy enough to work.
Somehow, that turned into the board looking to cut bait.

Makes me think peoples attention spans have gone to hell. Two thirds of a fact is better than none I suppose.

I can’t afford to donate as much as I would like and that typically renders you voiceless except in avenues such as this venue where the names have been omitted to protect the criminally petulant and immature.

The one thing that has been accomplished is the removal of a desire to go. That mental refresher of the service hour is temporarily lost. If I could come up with a better excuse than “I don’t wanna,” I would be out of there.

But I soldier on.