I hurt. Every bone in my body, every muscle, every square inch of flesh. Damn. I can’t do these sixteen hour days anymore. I got to work at 7:00 yesterday morning and didn’t get out of there until 11:00. Just about killed me. We’ve GOT to get more parents involved in the Booster Club. The Booster Club: president, a nice hardworking guy, me (treasurer), the do nothing secretary, and one overworked parent who doesn’t have a lot of time to help but still manages to show up for every meeting. Bless her heart. One hundred and fifty cadets and the Booster Club is one dad, one mom, and one grandma. Where’s everybody else??? I worked like a dog to pull everything together and don’t ever want to do this again. It was a killer night and I’m feeling the pain today. The Awards Banquet went well (for all outward appearances) and only those of us behind the scenes really knew how difficult it was to pull it all together. Two hundred guests were fed and the affair lasted from 6:00 to 9:00. It took another two hours to get the school cafeteria back in order and all the tables taken back to classrooms, the decorations taken down and everything cleaned up.
Dinner went well. DS came through with flying colors. He brought everything into the school kitchen and prepared salad, baked ziti, chicken primavera, vegetable lasagna, warm bread, iced tea, lemonade, coffee, and cake. Tables were placed in the adjacent meeting room and it was decorated and looked great. No one saw all the chaos taking place behind the kitchen doors. I couldn’t help getting angry when I had been working like a dog and then the secretary of the Booster Club showed up for the first time this year, dressed in a nice white suit and heels, sat down and waited to be served, and left the minute the banquet ended. And yet…she went up to the stage and was recognized for serving on the Booster Club for the year. Boooo! When they called us up, I was almost too beat to drag my poor body up front. Felt like saying, “Can you just bring it to me so I don’t have to get up because I don’t think I have enough energy to walk up there.” Maybe I should call her and say, “Uh, Mrs. Do Nothing, could you bring your $30.00 gift certificate to Red Lobster up to the school and drop it off to me since I did your job all year?” Every single month, I’d take the minutes, type them up, and email them to all the parents after the meeting. Wouldn’t you think she’d feel bad to receive the minutes (secretary’s job…right?) every single month knowing that she was supposed to be doing it? Doesn’t matter. She didn’t mess up her white suit and I walked up front in my pointy toed black patent leather heels and looked just as good (if not better) in spite of having stood on concrete floors and working like a dog the previous fourteen hours. So there! I washed, dried, and ironed tablecloths, blew up balloons, climbed on ladders and hung them up, strung crepe paper, sliced and buttered 18 loaves of bread and wrapped them in foil, set up salad dressings, wrapped forks, knives, and spoons in napkins and tied them with ribbon, made ten gallons of lemonade and twelve gallons of iced tea, washed serving bowls and sliced and served cake, managed and supervised the entire dinner and helped clean up all the mess when it was over. And I still didn’t limp when I walked up to the podium. Take that, woman!
Okay…come on, Patty, rise above it.
We were supposed to meet friends for dinner tonight but we cancelled. I’m too tired and sore. I’m going to take a pain pill and wear my pjs all day. I feel really, really old today….