It's official; I am the new Club Secretary. Or, I will be when I am sworn into the position at a ceremony to be held the end of May (As an aside, SpellCheck just informed me that I cannot correctly spell Secretary. This does not bode well).
I left yesterday's meeting before the election results were read because Hugh was stranded at a local car dealership and I had promised him a ride. Plus, when your name is the only name on the ballot, there tends to be a lot less suspense involved in waiting for the election results. Not that I didn't try to make it a bit more exciting, I did; I totally wrote down my friend's name as a write-in candidate on my ballot. She was charged with counting ballots so I'm sure she appreciated my effort once she got to that one. Also, I bet she never for one minute wondered whose ballot it was. We're close like that.
While we are on the topic of elections, is there really any scientific proof that computer-generated telephone calls actually help the candidates for whom they are shilling? Any at all? 'Cause I'm thinking, NO. Just, no.
Also, stop calling me, Candidate For Whom I Will Never Vote.
Hold the phone! Something just occurred to me; the next time I am suckered into running for club office, I shall create phone messages with which to plague my fellow club members. I will auto-dial them during dinner. I will call them at the break of day. I will call them during stressful family situations and especially during times at which they are certain to be indisposed. My calls will be so frequent and so maddeningly ill-timed that my fellow members will become irritated with me; so irritated that they vote for someone else. ANYONE else.
It's genius, really.
Unless they vote for me as a punishment for my abuse of their phone lines.
Ok, rethinking that plan....