I went to the POW meeting today. It was sort of the worst possible scenario realized. Weltsie and I got there early and had our pick of seats at the conference table. I purposefully picked a seat at the corner. Weltsie sat to my left and another woman sat at my right. Still, I must have damned the gods one too many times, because Mrs. Nasty sat her ass right next to me anyway. There was no room. We actually all had to shove over so she could fit. I turned to Weltsie and gave her the look. There was nothing else I could do. I wanted to stab Mrs. Nasty murderously with my pointy-toed heels, but I love my shoes too much, so instead I just sat there sullen, trying hard to cover it with my veneer of superiority.
We talked about nonsense, and the only thing I could think of was that POW’s logo looks like an ad for feminine hygiene products. It’s a little purple woman with a flower. How frakking lame. I tried to sit and pretend to be interested, but everything was so utterly mockable. They delayed voting on the need (or no need) for parentheses in their bylaws. They talked about whether or not the website maintainer needed to be on the council—I thought about voting no and then volunteering for that job instead. They talked about increasing membership and I had to hold back my sorority girl instincts. First I’d suggest that we revoke the ban on adjectives like funny, cute, and sweet. (Hey! Lucky 10-Key, do you remember these discussions?) The room could have stood for a bit more of all three. The funniest thing in there was seeing Mrs. Nasty act like she had it in her to be nice. Sweet!
Did I mention that Mrs. Nasty is the Vice President? Did I tell you that the leadership roles in POW rotate? Next year she’ll be President. What have I gotten myself into? I’m not sure my heart is in this. I love my sanity too much to add one more thing to my plate that I don’t want to do. I’d love to say I’m a do-gooder, but who am I kidding? Instead of writing a newsletter, I could be writing something meaningful and extraordinary. Well, that might be an overstatement, but I can hope, can’t I?