Potato, Potahto? Baked Potato, Mashed Potato?
When I can’t sleep, I write. What I write usually upsets people, because it's brutally honest, and much like A Few Good Men , some people can't handle the truth. Recently, I've felt ambushed from some who used to be in power (and who are at least 30 years older than me) in a Masonic organization, because I wasn't giving them every detail of a fundraising activity (a bingo). I wasn't asking for help, because I had help from others, and I knew from past experience that the help I might receive would be lacking. I was duly summoned to a meeting, as was Mac. We were told it would be to discuss the future of the organization, and instead, it was to discuss fundraising. Now, as I thought it was to discuss the future of the organization, I didn't bring any of the fundraising stuff with me. When we started talking about it, because I was ambushed, and a little rusty on my Toastmasters Table Topics skills, I wasn't able to answer all of their questions