Yesterday, I spent the morning on an onerous task, and I just know there must be some important life lesson. Onerous tasks always come with life lessons. It’s required. I think it’s in the constitution. So maybe you can help me figure it out. 

It all started with one of those phone calls from a charitable organization. I have a pat response to those calls: “Let me save us both some time,” I say calmly as they launch into the spiel. “I never respond to telephone solicitations. If you’d like to send me some information by mail, I’d be happy to consider it.” This usually leads to several rounds of “Could you just …” and “No” before they finally get that I really mean I won’t do anything by phone.

So, this particular solicitor had a different angle. To my first sally, she said, equally calmly, “I completely understand. I feel the same way. That’s why we’re not asking you to donate anything or pledge anything.” Unfortunately, I took the bait. She then explained that all they wanted me to do was either hand deliver or mail some requests to my neighbors. That’s all. It sounded easy enough. Mostly, I wanted to get off the phone.

A few days ago, the “kit” arrived. It turns out my task was larger than I had expected. Much larger. Reading the instructions, I realized that project had several (conveniently numbered) steps. My instructions (paraphrased):

1. Using the enclosed List, hand address the White Mailing Envelopes (provided) to my assigned neighbors.
2. Using the same enclosed List, personalize the boilerplate Notes (provided) asking for contributions by adding each addressee’s name to a note.
3. Put my address on each of the Red Return Envelopes (provided).
4. Insert the individualized Note, the Red Return Envelope, and a sheet of Christmas seals (provided) into each hand-addressed White Mailing Envelope.
5. Either hand deliver or mail the stuffed White Mailing Envelopes to all of the individuals on the List.
6. Record the contributions as they flood in, keeping track on the enclosed List.
7. If people don’t respond, follow up (using the List to keep track of how many times I harass people, I suppose).
8. When all responses have been returned or followed up to no avail, insert all the contributions and the completed List (indicating who was contacted, who I heard back from, and how much each donation was) in the Large Envelopes addressed to the Organization (two provided—envelopes, that is, not Organizations). 
9. Weep with relief as I drop them in the mailbox. They forgot to include this instruction, but it was implied.

Now, this is a fine charity, and I would actually have happily sent them a contribution. But I’m not so invested in this particular issue that I actually wanted to work for them. 

To be honest, I considered calling them back to say I couldn’t (wouldn't) do it. My thought was to refuse based on having been hoodwinked. “I was never told,” I would complain, “that I would have to go through all these machinations or that I would be responsible for collecting and returning the money.”

But then I said to myself, “Janis, you agreed to do this. If you weren’t clear about what it would entail, you should have asked.” Basically, “Grow up, girl!” So I did it, as I’d promised I would. 

And now, since miserable moments are always learning experiences, I’d like to know what it is this time. Here are my guesses:

• I shouldn’t be so eager to get off the phone that I sign up for something when I'm not sure what it is. This one is too obvious to be The Lesson.
• The universe is speaking to the hermit in me, “Hello … This would be easier if you knew your neighbors!” Possible, but I'm not listening.
• I live such a privileged, simple, self-contained, self-determined life that I consider this an onerous burden. Heck, some people have to do this every day. True.

And here are the good things that came out of it:

• I got to do doubly good work. Not only did I help feed the coffers of this non-profit organization (I hope!), I also helped the post office by mailing all these White envelopes and asking my neighbors to mail back the Red ones! And, as we all know well, the post office needs all the help it can get!

• It was a great opportunity to do some consciousness raising by using Barbara Jordan stamps on the return envelopes.

Wait … this was my lesson!

I actually considered not using those stamps, just in case someone would be bothered. Then I stopped myself, aghast, and said, “What are you thinking?!” And put them on.

If anyone is bothered, that’s their problem. And furthermore, how dare I consider asking Barbara Jordan, of all people, to retreat from someone’s discomfort?

Thank you all for helping me figure this out. I feel much better.