I'm Not Writing It

An opportunity was presented to me.  I examined it from all angles. I decided not to try.

There it is, bare bones. There is history behind each sentence.  I can judge every part.  I am surprised at myself and proud of myself and bemused at the situation as a whole.  Life just gets stranger and stranger, denizens.  I'm finding pieces of myself which continue to amuse and amaze me.

I was asked if I could take this on by someone who never asks for anything.  She's always willing to step up to the plate, donating money and time and support and space and everything necessary to get things going.  Then, like any good creative type, she's on to the next piece, leaving the first in good hands. 

I have to learn that lesson. 

There was a grant available.  It required four pages of exposition.  The money could not be used for salaries. The winner agreed to pose for pictures with an oversized check.

On the face of it, it was a no brainer.  Four pages of why I am doing what I am doing where I am doing it and with whom and how they are benefiting already exists.  All I needed to add were the parameters of the program.  It looked like an afternoon's work.

Had that been the case, this post would never be written.  Unfortunately, there was no program.  It seemed that it was up to me to figure out how to incorporate the parameters of the grant with the Pilates program already in place.

We don't need anything except salaries.

We have equipment and a room and the cost of running the pre- and post-tests are nonexistent; if we do it electronically there aren't even any photocopying costs. 

I'd love to pay the salaries of the teachers who are there every week, but the grant won't let me do it. 

So, there's an opportunity to increase my Doing-Good-Net-Worth by $1000 and I can't find a way to spend it.  It's driving me crazy.

GRIN buys no-show colorful socks which are given as rewards throughout the year; last semester's financial outlay was $30.  The class participants will receive certificates of participation.  They already exist, all that's needed are their names. 

I'm not clever enough to come up with a new plan.  The grant is due tomorrow. I'm not going to try.

I feel abashed when I say that I'm worrying about it for more than $1000 worth of angst.  There's more to it, though.  I don't need it right now.  That's more important.