Dear Inconsiderate Powers That Be:

After receiving what I consider to be substandard karmic customer service, I would like to escalate my complaint all the way up the powers-that-be management ladder.

Have you ever had a Sunday morning where you got up with dread knowing full well that you had to work and there was no way around it? You had to work because there was much more work than there was staff to do it. More pointedly, there is way more work than there is competent staff.  I have no problem delegating when I can be reasonably assured that I will not be frightened by the quality of the work that results.  Not even please.  Just not horrified for the future of humanity.  That old adage that 10% of the people do 90% of the work sure stings on a Sunday morning. Frankly, by 4pm it flat out nauseates. The flashing lights attacking my retinas from too many hour staring at a monitor and the fire in my fingers from an incipient bout of carpal tunnel syndrome attest to the fact that a time to rest will be necessary in the near future.  I think I must have printed out a full ream of paper. What a waste of trees, time and brain power. My son did come over and gave me some sage advice (he is really on fire these days with toddler wisdom). He said mom “take a bath.”  He went back down to play in the cardboard box in which my new, big home laser printer came in, so that I could print more reams of paper. At least the box provides him entertainment. I wonder if I can take that box to work and just hide in there under my desk alongside the 30 pairs of shoes that are in my under-the-desk boxes. I also have a Sex and the City game, a nativity scene and a bottle of whiskey stashed in my file drawers. Any of those would come in handy just about now.  But I digress.

As I labor and toll in numbers and fiction (at times) I am starting to wonder, is this Sunday working thing a sin? No, don’t take me so literally. Working on a Sunday is not a sin. Working on Sunday is not prohibited in the Bible. The idea that Christians should not be working on Sunday comes from a misunderstanding of the Old Testament.  But since I have whiskey stashed under my desk, I don’t think I could convince anyone anyway, that I believed working on a Sunday was a sin, or at least not one than I took too seriously.

So, powers-that-be: what have you done for me lately?  Sure, I got a huge promotion and become a VIP (very-inconvenienced person) just as Robert Frost noted way back when, “By working faithfully eight hours a day, you may get to be a boss and work twelve hours a day”.  That poet was quite prescient.

I have had that No Doubt song “Sunday Morning” in my head all day. I felt like I had been making progress yesterday towards catching up with my workload and the like but then Sunday morning came.

Sappy pathetic little me

That was the girl I used to be…..

You came in with the breeze
On Sunday Morning
You sure have changed since yesterday
Without any warning

The song doesn’t really pertain to my working on a Sunday situation. The song is more about a girl that used to love a guy who didn’t appreciate her and didn’t love her back so eventually she moved on, then he realizes he was an idiot, comes back and wants her now but she’s moved on and it’s too late. Yup, nothing to do with my work situation. But it is a good song to sing when you are working, toiling away on a Sunday morning.

I have a feeling that when I wake up tomorrow morning my hands will be balled up in fists and of course, we all know how Monday brings the blues. However, I am also reminded of a quote by Albert Schweitzer –a German theologian: “Do not let Sunday be taken from you. If your soul has no Sunday, it becomes an orphan”.  I must resist the powers that be that keep insisting on my Sunday work.  How can I resist?

Have you ever seen the movie Kick-Ass?  It is a 2010 British superhero comedy film based on the comic book of the same name.  It is quite silly but I feel drawn to it today. The film tells the story of an ordinary teenager, Dave, who sets out to become a real-life superhero, calling himself “Kick-Ass” and he eventually comes up against an eleven-year-old ruthless vigilante “Hit-Girl”. I don’t know if I want to be Kick-ass or hit-girl. I do know that my son tends to pick the bad guy’s team. Probably says something about my perspective on the world.

And lest you be confused as to which powers that be I am writing to let me clarify this last point. The Powers That Be are the ancient forces that assist the side of good in the television series Angel-the vampire with a soul that helped the helpless. At times, several of the characters referred to the Powers that Be as “The Powers that Screw You” and as “The Powers that Sit on Their Be-hinds”.  Yup, that’s where my head is at.

So, Dear Powers that Be. Don’t sit on your behinds.  Get up and throw some good karma my way.  Help me resist and fight to keep my Sunday. Help me write blogs instead of grants.  Oh. Ok. How about alongside grants?

Later…
Sincerely,
soulful, kick-ass hit girl