Ellyn... you're the only person I know who can take a wonderful season like Christmas and turn it into a problem. Of all the Charlie Browns in the world, you're the Charlie Browniest.
Or maybe that is a pitfall of working for the Church. You have to split your mind. There is the part of you that should be spiritually attuned. And then the other part that sees Advent/Christmas/Lent/Easter as problems to be solved. Specialty paper to be ordered. Candles to be ordered. Things to be scheduled. Phone calls to be answered.

Working on the outer envelope for our Christmas Schedule/Bulletin I suggested leaving off the lovely script declaiming "O Come Let Us Adore Him" and simply spelling out:
A) Put this bulletin on your refrigerator. Do not lose it.
B) Remember to put your offering in the enclosed envelope and bring it with you sometime before March.
C) Don't lose this Mass schedule. If you do, don't even think of calling us. Really.

On good days work is highly fulfilling. On bad days, it is like a being trapped in a bad reality TV show. (Yeah, the good days are pretty weird, too.) Not that it wouldn't make a funny show. I'd laugh too if I were observing it from home, in my jammies with a bowl of popcorn. What can I say? I get to help the Church. I get paid. That's probably as good as it gets. And how many people get to work with a crowd that could compete with the cast of "The Office" for amusement value. Did I say compete? I might say exceed. There's me, for instance. I certainly have my idiosyncracies. And the woman who, I swear on a DSM-IV and a stack of Merck manuals, has the most raging case of Munchausen's Syndrome that I have ever encountered. And the busy bodies. And eavesdroppers. Discretion keeps me from discussing the 'clientele.' The priests are the heroes. The pour themselves out for the people on a daily basis ... and endure the office staff.