All in a day's work

I might have mentioned this before: I'm doing some computer housekeeping, trying to sort out files, delete old unnecessary ones etc. I came across these extracts - I haven't yet found the complete set - of writing as I did describing my job as a church administrator. Some dramatic licence but pretty accurate on the whole. Names changed to protect the not so innocent.

How did it happen?

I’m not really sure how it happened, me becoming the new administrator of Acacia Church. The spiritual answer is that I was recognised as one of ‘those with gifts of administration’, but much more likely is the following scenario.

Cut to the leadership team discussing the pressures on Jenny, the administrator, as she has to take on more and more financial responsibilities.

‘What we need is someone who can take over part of the job,’ says Carl.

‘But who could possibly take over from Jenny?’ says Tom. (It’s a well-recognised fact that Jenny is superhuman.)

There follows a time of deep thought and meditative prayer. Unfortunately the names resulting from this all have to be discounted as being either too expensive (would probably require a substantial salary to lure her from her position as PA to Cliff Richard) or unavailable (currently halfway up the Orinoco in a coracle) or, sadly, dead.

‘No, really? When did she die?’ Jim is distressed.

‘1982.’

‘Oh.’

More quiet.

‘Look, I’m not at all sure about this, but, as there appears to be no-one else, and the situation is really quite desperate — what about Lucy?’ Carl ventures.

‘Lucy?’ Tom too has his doubts.

‘Yes, after all she’s been helping Jenny for some time now; she could probably take on a bit more.’

‘Would she do it?’ 

‘If we call it promotion, give her a fancy title, and pay her a bit more, she might, if we ask her nicely.’

And so, tempted by such irresistible morsels, my mouth took over and said, ‘yes.’

As assistant to Jenny, I typed, filed, photocopied, answered the phone, passed on messages and reminded people about meetings. Or, more often, forgot to remind people that meeting places had been changed.

The only real difference resulting from my promotion is that, whereas before I could blame Jenny when anything went wrong, now it’s my fault.

The lost key

It’s hard being a church administrator – people don’t understand the pressures. Don’t get me wrong, I sympathise, it wasn’t so long ago that I was like that myself. But now I’ve seen the light.

A church administrator is expected to have her finger in the socket of church life, to be the one-who-knows, especially all those insignificant little details like what, when and ‘Where’s the key?’

‘What key?’ 

‘The key to the cupboard.’

‘What cupboard?’ say I, giving myself time to return from the land of the almost living.

‘The one with the chocolate in.’ (We have to keep it locked – it’s the only way to stop Jenny and me ransacking it on one of our bad days. And we get a few of those. Ladies of a certain age will understand. If I’m not pre- then I’m post- or possibly in-between, and wherever I am, my hormones are two steps ahead – they’re the only fast thing about me.)

‘Oh, that cupboard. What did you say you wanted?’ 

‘The key. We’ve got to take stuff out and we can’t find the key.’

‘Well, isn’t it in the keybox?’

‘No, we’ve looked there.’ Patient sighs from the boys wanting the key.

‘It should be there.’

‘Well, it’s not.’

‘Someone must have it then.’

‘Yees, we wondered if you had it’

‘No, why should I have it? I don’t go in that cupboard. Never. Not me.’

A few minutes pass while we consider the possibilities. Eventually I remember that the last time I saw it was when Pete was using it. 

‘Pete must have it,’ I say. ‘Phone him, ask him.’

The message comes back that ‘Pete says that he gave it to Steve to give to you.’ In fact, now he comes to think of it, Pete recalls Steve telling him that he had given the key to me.

‘Me?’ I say. They nod.

I have this vague recollection of Steve and a key but that’s as far as it goes. Now where would I have put it? 

Some logical suggestions from the boys fail to result in a key. A cup of tea, and some typical thought from me and we find the key in the fridge. 

Now if people would only put things back where they found them, the job of a church administrator would be so much easier.

All in a day’s work

9.05 am Only five minutes late today. Plenty of time to make tea before settling down to check the mail. Brr, it’s cold here, better check central heating. Thermostat okay, boiler pilot lit, control panel blank. Oh oh. Press every button but can’t get it to work, mutter, go upstairs to office. Phone Mr Fixit. He will come later. In meantime, set manual controls. Pour tea.

9.20 am Remember man is coming to lay carpet in small front room. Also remember forgot to ask caretaker to shift cupboard from said room. Empty cupboard and push, thump and walk it into other room. Drink cold tea.

9.45 am Listen to answerphone messages and try to interpret ‘Shashiuy kjdi rkjsxi’, open letters, and check emails. Laugh at joke and wonder who Mandy and Trevor are and why they’ve written to tell me about their holiday. Eat banana.

10.30 am Carpet men arrive as does lady to book child’s birthday party. She wants forms and they want black bags. Trying to decide which to get first when phone rings. It’s Jim checking that I’ve done Order of Service for wedding next day. Tell him it’s well in hand, write note to myself to remind me to start it, give Sainsburys bag to lady and copy of ‘Songs of Fellowship’ to carpet men. 

10.35 am Apologise and give black bags to men. Apologise and give booking form to lady. Discuss merits of marmite sandwiches versus cheesey wotsits. The wotsits win.

11.05 am Count takings from youth club tuck shop the previous night. Wonder why my total never the same as theirs. Can’t get it to match whatever I do so change their total and work from mine. 

11.30 am Start typing Order of Service. Get stuck when can’t find words to ‘Oh, the deep and the low and the short and the fat love of Jesus.’ Try to remember by singing it but find myself singing, ‘Battle Hymn of the Republic’. Wonder if bride and groom would object if I used that instead. Decide they would and put it to one side while I get on with the weekly notices. 

12.00 Make tea. Eat banana.

Rest of day Put out toys for Parent & Toddler group, continue with Notices, finish Order of Service and photocopy both. Have cup of tea and steal biscuits from babes’ mouths. Send regular email to national company complaining about lack of response to complaint.

3.30 pm Go home, put feet up and refuse to move for rest of day. ‘I’ve been working.’

10.30 pm Go to bed. Thank God.