Twelve Hours

Photo by Adam Winger on Unsplash

I am a happy volunteer. Volunteering gives me a chance to experience things that are new and where the expectations are low.

On Saturday, I volunteered as a communicator for a 100 mile bike race/fundraiser. Usually this sort of thing takes four or five hours at most and just leaves me feeling terribly out-of-shape.

It took twelve hours.

It is Tuesday evening and I am still tired from it. It amazes me that people will ask for your help and not tell you of the time commitment, not to mention driving an hour away to do it.

So here I sit, with a scratchy throat, feeling worn out and wanting to go to bed at 8:30. There are no pithy insights into coercive control or cult programming. My dog really needs a bath. The dishes won’t wash themselves. Little dust bunnies are frolicking in the corner.

I guess this is the sort of condition where making a decision to join a group is not a good idea. Equally, going away for a weekend with a group of people wouldn’t…