Most of the time, my work involves me staring blankly at a computer screen, my fingers making tiny specific movements. It doesn't look like much.
Other times, my work involves me lying on the couch with both dogs, staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to solve an issue in whatever book I'm working on. It looks like even less.
Usually the work I do for Appalachian Literacy Initiative isn't very invigorating, either--writing grants, researching books for our list, beseeching people to support our work.
Today, though--today I worked like a stevedore, all for ALI. Early this morning our Operations Manager Hannah, who's technically not working this week, texted me and the rest of the board (all of whom besides me were out of town, don't worry, their time will come if it hasn't already, we all put in sweat equity) that the CVS on the parkway which just closed was selling off all furniture and fixings, first come first served, today. Next Monday we're touring a big empty space that we profoundly hope will be our new World Headquarters, and besides our bookshelves all of our furnishings at the current World Headquarters belong to our excellent landlords.
So I went to the CVS and explained about my nonprofit to the guys clearing the place. I told them I had a truck. One looked out the door and said, "I thought you said you had a truck."
I said, "That big blue thing in the corner."
The man said, "Nah, that ain't a truck, that's a Ford."
Chevy guy. I said, "The only truck what is a truck is a Ford," and he laughed and cut his prices from nearly nothing to half of that.
I bought 7 padded steel-frame chairs (from the pharmacy waiting area, they're nice), 2 desk chairs on wheels, a small round table, 2 trashcans, a bulletin board, a desk lamp, and 32 glorious feet of double-sided heavy-duty steel shelving, plus 2 endcaps, for the grand total of $245.30. (The 30 cents because they realized after the fact that they had to charge me state tax, so they back-engineered the original prices to come up with the closest after-tax total to $245 that was rational.) Then I went off to lunch with a smart woman who's kindly offered to help us set up our donor platform software, which we desperately need, and then my beautiful lovely grown-up and athletic daughter met me at the ex-CVS, her toolbox in her hand. We disassembled the shelving. Each 4-foot segment--eight of them--had--stops to count--between 17 and 23 separate pieces, many of them large, heavy, and unwieldy. Then we got every bit of it into my truck and my daughter's car, drove it to my house, stored the packed truck under the shedrow to shelter it in hopes that we can unload it next week at the New World Headquarters, transferred everything that was in my daughter's car to my garage, and collapsed from exhaustion. Just kidding. Actually we went and did the barn chores.
