Men at Work

People often ask me if I like working at my church. On days when I get to work and have to empty the trash, wipe up coffee grounds and spills, and clean up after groups who have used the office, I don’t. On days when every church member calls and asks me for a phone number- when last I checked, the White Pages is still printed and delivered to every household in America- I don’t. On days when someone walks in the door every five minutes, or the phone rings every two minutes, or someone is at my desk every ten minutes, and with each occurrence I have to stop what I’m doing and I can’t get any work done, I don’t.

There are however, things I do like about my job. The hours, the atmosphere, the low amount of stress, my co-workers. Sure, there is a huge discrepancy between the testosterone and estrogen levels in the office, but the guys treat us two women like equals. For instance, today I made a trip to the store and came back with a carload of supplies. I made four trips from my car to the office with my arms loaded with supplies, each time walking within two feet of two male co-workers who were sitting at a table. Just when I was done, one of them asked, “Hey, do you need some help?” "Hmmm. I think I've got it at this point."

To their credit, they are men. And as any man will tell you, they can't be expected to read the mind of a woman. I mean, how would they know I needed help unless I told them?