Freedom

Ah the weekend, those two days of freedom from the routine of work, the routine which dictates the time you get up, what you wear, when and what you eat and the time you go to bed.

So why is it that my weekend doesn't feel like freedom?  Why do I have so much washing to do?  Why do carpets need vacuuming?  Why does food need cooking?  and, most importantly, Why did I volunteer to be a delegate for the photog society?  It's only one or two meetings a year (they said), it won't take up much of your time (they said) and it would be soo good for us all (they said).  What they didn't mention was a round trip of 90 miles - not a lot to many people but I rarely drive more than five miles now-a-days - and a room full of people who love the sound of their own voice.

I have extensive experience of committee meetings both as a member and the chair and it was obvious to me that this was one committee who didn't really like each other (thank god it was the AGM and they were all standing down) so much so that their control of the meeting was tenuous at best.  At one stage another delegate stood up and asked if we could move onto the next item on the agenda as we had clearly resolved the item under discussion and were going round again - I could have applauded.

My hackles were raised when I saw the list of officers 'President', 'Senior Vice-President', 'Honorary Treasurer' 'Honorary Secretary' etc.  High faluting titles - mmmm.  Why?

Anyhow, that's my duty done until June (the next AGM - don't ask) and tomorrow will be a busy morning sorting stuff out for next week followed by a lazy afternoon at V's watching DVDs, eating nibbles and getting oh-so-slightly drunk.  Such fun!