P.S. First Staff Retreat, part 2

Call fail. Self talk fail. I saw a mail truck paused beside a nearby mailbox.  Maybe I could catch a ride with the mailman, only I felt pretty sure he had been murdered and his body hidden in the woods; I was clearly headed toward desperation. I saw a dirt path off the culdesac. Maybe the mailman's body had been dragged down there. I shook it off and let curiosity take the lead. I followed the path. It led down to a small dock on the lake. Although it was still warm, the tourist season was over, and it was obvious no one was around on this sunny day. I stood on that dock alone.

The next thing I knew, my shoes were off, and I was hitting the water in my underwear. In a splash, I was treading water. I looked up at the dock. There they sat. My phone, my panic, my pounding heartbeat. I swam away from the dock, trying to reconnect my mind and body, and that went well until I realized I was quite a ways away from the dock, so I turned around and kicked hard to get back to it.

I climbed out, sat a minute in the warm sun, put my clothes back on, and returned to the staff retreat a new and renewed church chick. I could hear the conversation still going on as I approached the house. I went in, returned to my pad and paper on the floor, and picked up a marker. The sudden silence was deafening. The talk had stopped. Without moving my head, I looked at my boss, who was staring at me. I didn't have to see the others, I could feel their eyes on me, too. "So, did you go for a swim?" My head dropped to the carpet. How did he know? I could not have been gone long. My eyes caught my drip-path. Oh. My hair was taking over for the panic sweat from before and the pad was getting a little puddly, too. It wasn't until then that I realized the imprint of my underwear was soaking through my dry clothes."I was just getting a bit of fresh air/ uh water, too."

Just when I thought I was in hot water-"I want to go down to the lake! Me too!, Let's go!" Next thing I knew, the whole crew was either in the water, or stripping down to go. "Church chick, aren't you coming?"
"No, thanks. I've already had my turn. I'll be the lookout."

That wasn't the last staff retreat we ever took, but for me, it was the most memorable. Added plus is, I didn't get fired. Does it get better?

Looking back at this memory, I think to myself, For all these years, I have expected to be fired. I keep showing up, and they keep not firing me. If I make it to retirement without being fired, I guess I'll be firing my own self. Go figure.