Last week I walked passed a booth of volunteers trying to get people to register to vote. A gal jumped in front of me and asked with her biggest smile, “Are you registered to vote?”
“Of course I am,” I said politely. While I saw no need to be rude, this was a conversation I really didn’t want to participate in. Being completely exhausted with work and having a newborn to worry about 90 percent of my brainpower was focused on something else. I was on autopilot: barely aware that I was even talking to her.
“That’s wonderful,” she replied. “Would you like to volunteer your time?”
And without realizing what I was doing, I blurted out laughing, “No.” I feel a little bad because I respect what she was doing…but volunteer work is just something I don’t believe in. Kinda like charity and the Easter Bunny.
I hate fees. I don’t think this a word that makes me cringe more than fees. I know some things have a price; other things have a cost. But there’s something about fees. Name something–anything–that you ever paid a “fee” for–was something you actually wanted? When you get a parking ticket, you hafta . . . . .