League of Utah Writers – Spring Workshop

This year I was in charge of the Spring Workshop. I started planning early because I like to worry. I asked my amazing speakers back in January if they would be able to present on April 20th. I lined up the building in February. I called about the food in March. Since January I have been in a panic about the whole thing. Oh, let me count the ways:

• I had a nightmare about tons of people showing up and I had forgotten to order the food.
• I worried that I wouldn’t have enough people to make back the money I invested.
• I had to order the main course of the lunch a few days before the conference and I worried a lot of people would show up and I wouldn’t have enough food.
• I had a nightmare that we ran out of chairs.
• We only had half an hour to set up and I worried that we would start late.
• We only had half an hour to take down and I worried we would go long.
• I was worried one (or more) of the presenters would have an emergency and not be able to make it.
• I worried that everyone would hate the fact that we were having pasta salad.
• I was worried I would be attending a funeral on the date of the workshop.
• And finally, as Moose and I were driving to the venue I honestly thought I had given EVERYBODY the wrong address. I left Moose at the wrong address and hurried back only to find out I was on top of things and had distributed the correct address. Luckily the wrong address was only two miles away so I was able to pick him up and bring him back before he stood out in the cold rain for too long.

I slept poorly for days because I was so stressed about it. Pant . . . pant . . . pant. And this was why I didn’t get a blog post done on Friday. I was so stressed about the workshop it didn’t even cross my mind.

And now I need to get into gear for planning the fall conference next year. Poor Moose. He is already preparing himself for my next panic attack.

This experience has brought to mind one of Patrick McManus’ short stories about the worry box. Moose’s worry box is much smaller than my worry box. In fact his worry box is filled with worrying about me worrying over the worries in my worry box.

P.S. After it was over I continually asked Moose if he thought is was okay. He kept reassuring me that it went fine. He said someone told him that this was the best Spring Workshop he had ever been to, and he's been to about half a dozen. The only reason that this turned out as well as it did was because Moose helped. He may not have read any of my stories, but he is the most supportive husband I could ask for.