Unpaid Work
When we moved from Marin to Arizona, I vowed that I would no longer give away my work. If I picked up a chore, I would be paid for it. That didn't last very long. I took on the newsletter for The Happy Ladies Club after a lengthy skirmish over attending Board Meetings. There was no one else. Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with sugar on it and a cherry in the middle? I was incapable of resisting the request. The job was a pain in every body part, from my head through my heart to my butt, which grew tired of sitting while I formatted something that could be both digital and hard copy. I created and took on the Happy Ladies' care committee after I was perforated in 2011. They were so good to me for 14 weeks, I felt an obligation to return the favors. Over the last decade, though, setting up Meal Trains and sending condolence cards has become rote rather than rewarding. There are others in the group who are lookin...