You know you’ve hit rock bottom when the company church lady comes to visit you. In every office I’ve ever worked, there has been one person, usually a middle aged woman with very vague job responsibilities, who is very religious and will pounce on any opportunity to spread the word of God.

How to Identify the Office Church Lady: A Fieldguide

• They always have religious paraphernalia strewn about their cube. (these women always work in cubes, draw your own conclusions, but I think one reason is they are always also intense gossipers and prefer cube farms so they can hear everyone else’s conversations)
  
• They know there is a thin line between freedom of religion and harassment and they walk dangerously close to crossing the line. They will not lead the weekly production meeting in a prayer, but they will make a cliché comments alluding to scripture at every opportunity.
  
• They have a Bible Verse-a-Day calendar.
  
• They collect Precious Moments figurines.
  
• They crochet blankets for homeless people and orphaned babies while at work.
  
• They work exactly nine to five with a one hour lunch break at exactly noon.
  
• They will always bring a casserole to the office potluck. Always. A. Casserole.
  
• You can spot her holiday grab bag gift by the religious themed wrapping paper which looks to have been designed in 1973. The gift inside will be a bookmark with a Psalm quoted on it or an ornament for a Christmas tree or a gift certificate for the Cracker Barrel. Regardless of the fact that more than half your office is Jewish, Hindu, or atheist and no one except her lives within 50 miles of the closest Cracker Barrel.
  
• She will wear imitation Laura Ashley-ish clothing.
  
• She will either not wear a drop of make-up (except Chap-Stik in extreme circumstances) and do nothing with her hair except wash and brush it (no cutting, no styling, no coloring, no highlighting, no perming, nothing) or, she will wear heavily and badly applied make-up and wear her hair in a labor intensive but at least 10 years out of date hair style. (Yes, these are women of extremes)
  
• There will be: a Jesus fish, a pro life bumper sticker and a Bush/Cheney bumper sticker on her car, and in states allowing front license plates of choice, a God is My CoPilot license plate. Her car radio will be permanently tuned to CBN. (Her car will be something very generic and very Chevy.)
  
• She will still have her Bush/Cheney ‘04 AND ‘00 buttons still prominently pinned in to her cube partition.
  
• She is either unmarried (a virgin, of course, as God deems it) or met her husband at church or band camp when they were 15 and have been together ever since. Both types proclaim their virginity/teenaged romance loudly and at every opportunity, if there's not an opportunity they will make one. ie: You might say, "Wow, did you have one of Debbie's cookies? They're great." Virgin church lady will reply, "Not as great as saving it for marriage!" Married church lady will say, "Not as good as the cookies I won over Bob with back when we were teeangers!" Note to virgins and people married to their teenage sweetheart: Those facts alone do not qualify you for church lady status.
  
• If married, she will have children. (either many, an excessive amount, or exactly two, one for each time she’s had sex)
  
• Her children will not be allowed to have Barbie dolls, but the entire Veggie Tales collection of movies and licensed products is a-okay with the church lady. (Yes. Talking, singing, dancing, preaching vegetables apparently send a positive message to children which will mould them into good, well adjusted adults. If I had watched Veggie Tales as a child instead of playing with Barbie and her wayward gang for hours on end my life would be better than it is. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been put in a situation with talking, singing, dancing, preaching vegetables and I didn’t know what to do. But put me in a room with a bunch of vapid blonde models and watch me handle it with innate skill. But then maybe that’s just me and my life. Maybe other people have to face more talking, singing, dancing, preaching vegetables than vapid blonde models.) (If you want to read a true church lady’s take on toys and children, brace yourself and click here.)
  
• And yes, yes, YES! she probably has a cat or two, okay? Yes. And probably a dog and if space and money permit, a horse. These animals will be named for obscure characters in the Bible. This is so that when anyone comments on the unusual name of the animal church lady can launch into a scripture lesson. (That thin line I mentioned.)
  
• She will loudly condemn Harry Potter and anyone who reads the books or watches the movies and deem J.K. Rowling as Satan himself.
  
• But they love all things Disney and consider that nice Walt Disney to be the right hand of God himself. (I once innocently asked an office church lady why Harry Potter is Satanic but the Sorcerer’s Apprentice is okay with God. I was cast out of the flock and banish-ed from any further contact with her. You might try this trick if your church lady is getting to be too much for you to handle. If that doesn’t work, mention The Haunted Mansion, and what makes Magic Mountain magic, anyway? And then there are the curses in: Cinderella, Snow White and Sleeping Beauty (to name a few), and the latest blockbuster, Pirates of the Caribbean: The CURSE of the Black Pearl (and on that point, is it not just a little blasphemous to have the “sexiest man alive” (and the father of two illegitimate children) in the leading role of a Disney movie? (not that I’m complaining, but then, I’m in the played-with-Barbie-Harry Potter-rocks-I’m-going-straight-to-Hell-on-the-express-train-while-thinking-impure-thoughts-about-the-“sexiest man alive” group.))
  
• They are homophobic to an alarming degree. (draw your own conclusions here...if she’s of the unmarried virgin group, well...if she’s of the exactly two children one for each time, group, well...)
  

Okay. That’s probably enough to help you ascertain if you have a church lady in your office. If you have doubts or are uncertain about someone in your office, write me.) Yesterday, as I toiled, brow furrowed, one hand typing an email the other prepping a project to go to print, things literally flying around my office, projects, deadlines, meetings, clients, professional holiday obligations all vying for space and time in my life, in walks our office church lady. Without invitation or announcement, this woman walked into my office, shut the door behind her, sat down, stared at me with grave concern and said: Tricia (church ladies almost always use your proper name even if you have never been called by your proper name even by your parents), you need to take time to count your blessings. Things are rough for you right now but maybe you’re bringing some of it upon yourself. Negativity breeds negativity. (Church ladies don't beat around the bush. (Unless it's burning in which case they start quoting Revelations) They know they are unwanted by their chosen victims and know they have limited time.) "um. yeah. hi church lady. how are you? even though I don't actually believe in 'blessings' I know what you mean and I guess you're right. I’ll do that when I get a spare moment. (mind racing to the blasphemous Prayer-a-Thon experiment) kind of busy right now. thanks for stopping by. see you next week at the party." God has given you so much Tricia. "um. well..." You have more intangible gifts than most people. Great parents. Good friends. Everyone knows you’re the driving creative force of the company. All the clients want you on their projects. You are a very special person Tricia. I’ve always thought that about you. I’ve never met anyone like you. God has special plans for all of us but I know he’s got something big in store for you. He has given you wonderful gifts of creativity, artistic ability, you're smart, you can be funny at times, I don't always understand your jokes but some people do... (Trillian’s head spins as she hurls something resembling split pea soup out of her mouth.) ...seriously Trillian (trying to ingratiate herself by using something other than my proper name), I know if you just take a few minutes to count your blessings, take stock of the good things in your life you’ll feel a lot better and end this string bad luck. (Luck? Luck? Um, church lady, I thought there’s no place for luck, good or bad, in Christianity. I thought there is no such thing as luck, only God’s plan and hand. I’m confused...) It’s not all doom and gloom. God works in mysterious ways. God would never give you more than you can handle. These are not tests of faith, they are tests of character. They are blessings in disguise. These are opportunities. (Church ladies also love management seminar fodder. They really love Successories.) You should choose to learn a lot about life and about yourself and grow your spirit as you face these challenges. “Look, church lady, I appreciate your concern for me, thank you for the advice and inspiration. I mean no offense by this, I respect your beliefs, your religion is your business, but don’t make it mine.” Tricia. Trillian. Please. I see you teetering on the edge. I know you are suffering. Put your faith in God. He’ll throw you a rope (to hang myself?) and help pull you through all of this. “I thought you said these were tests of character, not faith, and that God would never give me anything I can’t handle. So why would he throw me a rope and pull me through if I’m supposed to be building or proving character or taking opportunities and learning something from all of it? What am I going to learn if God does all the work for me?” (smugly satisfied smile) Now you’re getting it. “No I’m not. I’m confused by your opposing suggestions and rhetorical double speak. For the sake of ending this discussion and the fact that I really need you to leave my office now, do you think my character or faith is being tested?” Both. “Then why did you say these aren’t tests of faith?” Because the challenges themselves are not tests of faith, those are tests of character. The test of faith happens after you’ve learned your lessons and built your character. (phone rings, divine intervention and salvation, yes, divine, sublime, all seeing, all knowing Godly intervention) “Sorry, church lady, I’ve got to take this call. Thanks. Really. No offense.” Count your blessings Tricia. I’ll keep praying for you. “Thanks.” (see you in Hell) Last night, after a little (hic) celebration, I settled into my little chamber of solace to begin this year’s Prayer-a-Thon. It was difficult. I wasn’t certain I was going to do this. For all the same reasons as last year. I’m agnostic at best, what business have I got messing around with prayers? Particularly prayers to a saint because if there’s one thing I am definitely not, it’s Catholic. Particularly prayers to a saint asking for a personal desire to be granted. (Maybe you should pray for religious enlightenment, Trillian...) If there’s a God and He hears these prayers or St. Andrew sends him an email outlining my situation, I don’t expect or want near instant gratification from Him. That’s not the sort of God to which I want to hitch my wagon. I’ll get my instant gratification while shoe shopping, thank you very much. I have no expectations because I don’t actually believe in saints and my relationship with God can only be described as estranged. And I am neither a hypocrite or a liar. And carrying out the Prayer-a-Thon, by definition, makes me both. But. What I did learn during last year’s Prayer-a-Thon is that those few minutes of disciplined me time were helpful to me. I didn’t feel at one with God, or even St. Andrew, but, the repetition and focus required to carry out the prayers made me take time to do a specific thing which was all about me and my thoughts. This isn’t like gym me-time, or reading a book me-time, or having a glass of wine after work me-time. This is about a daily ritual that is all about introspection or at the very least concentration on something other than work, family, relationship, money. Which is something I don’t do often and probably not enough. This year, for now anyway, I am going to use my Prayer-a-Thon time as my time-out from all the crap in my life right now and think bigger and smaller thoughts. Period. Church lady is of course right on a few points. I know I am “lucky.” I have enormous big deals in my life for which I am thankful. My mum is alive. I’m alive. My niece is alive. My sister isn’t in jail. I do have really great friends. I have a job. I have a wonderful animal companion. I have many incredibly smart, funny, thoughtful, caring friends whom I’ve never actually met face to face but who read these words and write me with words of support, encouragement and humor but never pity, platitudes or rhetoric. (I love that about you, by the way, thank you.) I could have sex tonight, with one of two (or both!) men who really like me, by making one phone call. Yesterday I detailed a few little things that are irritating. Not big deals, but irritating, annoying nuisances. Today I’m detailing a few little things which are pleasant. Not big deals, but nice, smile inducing pleasantries. The people responsible for these little pleasantries will lead rich, fulfilling and rewarding lives.

• The scruffy, middle aged, Bud beer truck guy in 7-11 yesterday who, on his way back out to the Bud truck stopped and said in gruff Sout Sidenese, "Doze are great boots."
  Me? "Oh, erm, (flustered by confusion at the fact that this guy would notice anything on a woman other than naked boobs yes I know I'm stereotyping but you should have seen the guy) thank you." (Smile, but not in a oh gee thanks you're so cute kind of way)
  "Dem are real nice. Day match your coat perfect."
  "Oh! Thank you!" (Smile broadly because someone noticed my coordination efforts and commented on it!)
  And then he was gone.
  His purpose of just being observant and nice and bothering to compliment a woman without wanting to get into her pants fulfilled, he will be enriched and have a long and happy relationship with a woman who loves him because he is a kind, decent, observant respectful guy.
  
• Theatres and studios realizing the merits of re-releasing movies for the big screen. And I don’t mean one of those ginormous monitors Best Buy sells. I mean in actual theatres. Dr. Strangelove is playing in a theatre. On a huge screen. If you don’t understand why this is a good thing, go see it on the big screen. If you still don’t understand why this is a good thing, there’s nothing I can say to make you understand. The theatre industry is slowly (very slowly, so slow you can hardly see it moving slow) realizing re-releasing classic and even not so classic movies for people to see on a big screen is a worth while effort. Their attempts at artistic enlightenment will (hopefully) lead to an industry wide realization and satisfaction of a job finally well done.
  
• This year’s holiday new music releases actually include a few which are very good. The music industry will continue to lead a horrible, unfulfilling life, but some of the artists will be forever enriched by creating music with integrity.
  
• Innovative and creative authors. After months of sitting in the “to read” stack, I finally read The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time and yes, it did change my life. Mark Haddon, having changed my life, will continue to write creative literature which matters and will be fulfilled with a lifetime of rewarding creative process.
  
• It’s boot season! The hap, happiest time of the year! Well. I mean I guess there’s not really anyone but me and other boot/shoe people getting any sort of pleasure but, you know, way to go shoe designers and retailers.
  
• The clerk at the Megaenormous retailer trying to be a snooty posh boutique who happily offered to help me find the exact top in the exact color my niece wants for her Holiday Fling dance.
  “May I help you find anything?”
  “Well, actually yes. My niece saw a top here a few weeks ago and all I know is that it’s blue and it might have some type of sparkly bits on it and it’s X Brand and she needs a size small, but all I can find are pink X Brand tops with no sparkly bits in large.”
  “Oh, I bet I know the one. It’s adorable. We have a few in back. I’ll go get one to show you.”
  “Okay. Thanks. I’ll wait here.” (You ‘know’ the one? Really? Why do I find it hard to believe you are graced with a psychic ability to ‘know’ what my niece wants to wear to her Holiday Fling dance? Don’t try to sell me something on the auspices of ‘knowing’ what my niece, or any other 13 year old girl wants. If you ‘knew’ that information you would be bringing in heaps of money in a career in marketing. At the very least you’d have the top out here on prominent display so that 13 year old girls would beg and whine and pout until their parents plunked down their credit cards for the overpriced rag and you’d get a commission. And about “in back” come off it, do you honestly think I’m falling for THAT one? And have you never seen Seinfeld?)
  “Here we go. Does this look like it’s the one?”
  (shock. confusion. because yes, now that I see it, because I DO ‘know’ my niece, I’m sure it’s The One) “Ahh, yes, erm. yeah, I think that IS it.”
  “Great! And these are going on sale day after tomorrow.”
  (oh please don’t even try that crap on me, you’re not dealing with an amateur here, girly) “She needs it tomorrow.”
  “Oh, no, I meant I’ll give you the discount now.”
  (If that’s what you meant why didn’t you say it?) “Thank you, I appreciate that.” (the rag is insanely overpriced, the discount won’t even cover the sales tax)
  “This time of year is rough on the budget, every little bit helps.”
  (don’t patronize me, girly, just because I’ve got shoes older than you doesn’t mean I’m some pensioned granny) “Ha. Yeah.”
  “Okay then, the total is $16.93.”
  (no, sweetie, I want the adorable perfect shade of blue with the sparkly bits Brand X top we’ve been discussing, you know, the one you got from “in back?”) “$16.93? Really? Isn’t that like a 70% discount?”
  “80”
  “Right. Maths. Never my strong suit. It’s really marked down that much?”
  “Yeah, I know, it’s a great deal.”
  “Actually, yes, at that price it honestly is a good deal.”
  “And, we’ve got a Brand X promotion going, you get one of these baby-ts free.”
  (niece is going to squeal with delight over that t, but don’t let on because there is no way she should be giving away a gift with purchase promotional item on a heavily discounted top that isn’t actually discounted until two days from now.) “Really? Wow. That’s cool. (trying to sound really blasé) She’ll like that.”
  “I snagged one of these, they’re so cool.”
  “Huh.Yeah. They are.”
  “Want one for yourself?”
  “Nah, my niece will love it.”
  “No, I mean do you want one, too? The promotion ends tomorrow, we’ve got more than we’ll give away. I’ll give you one if you want it.”
  “oh. Well. I mean. Sure. Why not?”
  “Yeah, they’re really cool. It would look great under a suit jacket.”
  (stop reading my mind, dammit, you’re freaking me out) “Yes, yeah, it will. Thanks”
  “Would you like it gift wrapped?”
  “No.”
  “It’s free.” (Points to a display of clever little Megaenormous retailer trying to be a snooty posh boutique gift packaging.)
  “That’s cute. Sure.”
  “Have a great holiday!” (hands over an enormous shopping bag full of stuff, 7 cents and a receipt for $16.93)
  “Okay, thanks. You too.” (Get the swut out of here fast before her manager finds out what she’s done. Wait. Maybe this is some sick, subversive plot to trick people into stealing merchandise. Maybe the alarm thing is going to start wailing when I leave the store and the loss prevention crew will throw me down and pull out the shirts and free gift wrapping and I’ll be doing a Winona Ryder except I won’t have done Johnny Depp so it won’t be worth it. Standing, hovering, frantically looking at the alarm sensor things. I have to go. Running late. Okay. Jump!
  
  
  Hey. I made it. No wailing alarm. No loss prevention crew. No Winona Ryder.) Having fulfilled her purpose of finding the top my niece wanted at a huge savings to me and actually being helpful and nice, sales clerk will be promoted and eventually become senior buyer.
  
• The Salvation Army Band. Seriously. They’re always good and sometimes stellar. And they care about what they’re doing. And they go around earning money to give real help to people who really need help. Every time I hear a Salvation Army Band, big or small, good or stellar, it makes me happy. Makes me want to learn to play the euphonium or French horn. Makes me happy to know there are people who will gladly don a really ugly uniform (did you know they have to pay for their uniforms out of their own pockets?), play an awkward instrument in public and turn over every cent of donation to help people who really need it. This isn’t just giving by payroll deduction or dropping coins in a bucket, anyone can do that. This is true, selfless, shameless, giving of time and talent, the real charity deal. Their reward is simple but hugely fulfilling: They use their talents for good and help lots of people.
  
• Holiday windows. I know. I hate the marketing, over commercializing and over mass producing of Christmas. But. Even Trillian the Grinch will admit, hand on heart, I love a really good holiday store window display. These little vignettes are where display artists do their best work. It’s their coup de gras of the year. It's what makes it all worth it for them. It’s why they suffer through the bikinied mannequins and the white sale season. I’ve seen some really good ones this year. The Gene Moore Award is going to be a nail biter this year. (Window Designer's web Mecca) Window designers, well. Like anyone in advertising, marketing or promotions, they don’t exactly lead idealistically fulfilling professional lives. But if they do it well, artistically and creatively, they have season after season of creating mini-universes with mini-lives and mini-stories and playing God is not without its satisfaction.
  
• Amanda at MegaCorp Bank. There is at least one logical, reasonable, sane person at my credit card company who is helpful and understanding and settled the fraudulent charges on my stolen credit card with apologies and concern. And they call her: Amanda. Amanda’s days will be filled with the satisfying and rewarding job of being truly helpful and kind to customers who have had their financial lives stolen from them.
  
• Postcards. I got a postcard from Morocco. Okay, sure, Kilgore has been home from Morocco for weeks, maybe months now that I think about it. But still. He sent me a postcard when he was there and it arrived yesterday and I love postcards and he took time out of his holiday to send me one and that’s really thoughtful and it’s one of life’s little things that we should all do for other people because it makes people happy so when you go on holiday or even when you’re just hanging around home send postcards to people you are thinking about just because you are thinking about them and it’s a nice thing to do. When they go to the box and pull out bills and missing children cards and carpet cleaning adverts they’ll be well cheered to see a postcard, especially when they find out it’s from you. They might even take it to their office and put it on their bulletin board in their office or pin it to their cube partition and people at work will ask them about it and they’ll get all proud and brag that they have a friend and that their friend went to Morocco or wherever and sent a postcard. Postcard senders spend their holidays secure in the knowledge the postcards they send will be brightening someone’s dull, bad or tiring day.