My township will benefit from this election, and so will I

When I became Fiscal Officer, thirteen years ago, I continued my regular working hours. Up at seven, behind the desk by eight. I was stunned the minuscule amount of work involved in the job, part time though it was.

To earn my keep, I sorted through all my work and streamlined it for my auditors. Then I filed ten or more years of zoning paperwork hanging around in the meeting room. I looked for more jobs, found them, started them. 

That’s when I hit the wall. Two thirds of the trustees had no problem, one third screamed “Exceeding your authority….!!!”

I hit the wall so often in my first term, I lost twenty pounds. I stuck it chiefly due to the friendship of another first term clerk who had a sympathetic and knowledgeable mayor to work with.

By my second term our post office didn’t open until nine, and why should I go back at nine to get the mail when I was at the office at eight. I simply set my alarm ahead an hour to accommodate the post office. I still had the work done in three hours a day, two or three days a week. (Yes, I quit going to the post office most days.)

I kept my hand in at exceeding my authority (and taking the consequences from the 1/3). Didn’t want to lose my edge. It’s like driving fast now and then.

This third term I still get up at eight, but now I read the news, read blogs, even look at FaceBook, before I ever go out the front door. Maybe I get there by ten, if I’m going to work instead of to knitting group or cards. I can wrap it up in so little time I’m occasionally ashamed of myself, so I drag out another half hour in a chat with the Road Super.

Yesterday I brushed my teeth and showered before I turned on the computer and hit the wall again.  I ate breakfast, went to the post office, and was behind the desk by nine. I had my part of the evening trustee meeting prepared by ten, so I came home and sat in my drive until I went to lunch with the knitters, where politics are not allowed.

Today I have my grip.

We are the majority. We have a full deck. Love trumps hate, and so do grace, charity, kindness, respect.

I mailed the bills, filed the paperwork, wrote last night’s minutes and ate my lunch. I’m on my way to the sewing store. I need thread and bobbins and a lint brush and a trash can. I need to make hippie clothes. I’ve marched and stood in front of bulldozers. I can do it again.

Remember Joe Hill. Don’t mourn. Organize.

I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night,
Alive as you and me.
Says I "But Joe, you're ten years dead"
"I never died" said he.