So it turns out when you're one of the grown-ups and they split the ward and have to replace all the people that are gone . . . you're, like, one of the ones they use to replace those people.
In other news, I am now the Primary Secretary. And it's pretty much the most "important" calling I've had since Laurel class president.
(disclaimer the first: yeah, yeah, all callings are important and all that jazz. You know what I mean.)
I . . . am kinda slightly intimidated. I mean, I know it's just the kids and whatever. But eleven-year-olds are a bit harder to satisfy than toddlers. And quite frankly I would have been rather content staying in nursery for quite some time. Snack time, play time, and lessons about sharing instead of thinly veiled political arguments. Admit it, I had you all at snack time. :-)
On the other hand, I don't have to go back to Relief Society . . . and I have to admit I don't particularly care for this ward's. After four and half months of introducing myself every. single. week. going into nursery was quite the relief. And it was every week - someone would come and say "oh, are you new? Is this your first week?" and I'd be all "well, we're new but it's our third month here," and they'd be all surprised and stuff and it was the same people introducing themselves every week and I wouldn't have minded if they had been saying things like "I know I've seen you here before but I don't remember your name" but there was seriously no recognition at all. At all. I'd be introducing myself to the same person for the third time in six weeks and absolutely no shred of acknowledgment that Id ever been seen before whatsoever. No ringing bells at the sound of my name. No "aha!" moment when I mention that, yes, I did stand up and introduce myself to everyone - clear back in April. Nothing.
I mean, it's not like I was expecting everyone to remember my entire life story - but am I really that forgettable?
Don't answer that.
Anyway . . . yeah. Secretary. I? Am not secretarial. No idea what I'm doing. And the primary program is next week. And I'm going to have to do, like lessons, right? Like, sharing time? With everybody? And it's just me up there? Yeah I see NOOOOOOOOO way that could possibly go cataclysmically wrong. < end sarcasm >
On the plus side, it's not like it's a particularly visible calling if you know what I mean. Except, you know, the part where the primary program is this Sunday. And I'll probably end up sitting up there with all these kids I've never spoken too and don't know any names and all the parents will be expecting me to keep them in line and know when to pull which one up for their part and I don't have a clue which one's Jonny and which one's Sally so I'll look utterly incompetent and they'll all be hounding the bishop to release that terrible secretary . . . who hasn't even spent a single minute in primary yet.
(actually . . . maybe that's not an all bad scenario, lol?)
One more thing - my Teen Girl Squad bag isn't too sacrilegious to use as a church bag, is it? Because it would be a whole lot easier to just let my library bag do double duty than to try and find another one I like. Stick figures aren't sacrilegious, are they?
(disclaimer the second: I'm not complaining, just super nervous and intimidated.)
P. ost S. cript
Never fails - when you need something to laugh at you re-post this one. And remember how I actually know the girl in the blue dress. Like, personally. We're facebook friends and everything. :-) (she's blonde in real life . . . bet you never would have guessed, huh?)