Before my retirement, I sometimes fell into the trap and ended up with more volunteer jobs than I knew what to do with. Sometimes my office at the newspaper looked like the national headquarters of the United Way with the exception that I was the only staff member and I didn’t even get nominal pay to cover my expenses.

Along about mid-career, I met a woman who was a community activist, but only to the extent that her time and talents allowed. I admired that and asked her secret. She said: "Learn how to say no!" Well, I took her advice and soon I was only doing what I could fit into an 18-hour day along with my editorial duties.

Almost two years ago, I retired from my job as community newspaper editor to repair my health and to concentrate on writing – a column for this e-zine, a novel, a book of genealogy and other stuff as it struck my fancy and my pocketbook. Now, I thought, I will have time to read the books that have been moldering on my shelves these past few decades and maybe travel a little.

I had only reached the first month after my recovery from heart bypass surgery when it struck me that I still didn’t have time for those things. In retirement, I had been turned into household caretaker and errand man plus candidate for volunteer of the month. So I took on a few small paying jobs – small in both duties and pay.

These jobs put me into contact with people who had too much to do in the community and so I reluctantly volunteered for a few additional tasks, nothing strenuous, you understand, just a little favor here and a little favor there.

One tiny task that I approached with some excitement was helping to edit and publish the Chamber of Commerce newsletter. It only comes out every other month and it’s just a few pages with most of the information provided by the genial, always-smiling and greatly overworked executive director of this non-profit, member-supported agency. I was happy to help out the small band that assists her in the office for little pay or on a strictly voluntary basis.

Having guided for 28 years the publication of a newspaper printed weekly without fail since 1867, I felt pretty confident I could handle this minor duty. Think again. At the newspaper, I had a staff of competent and caring people paid a living wage (well, almost) who took care of those nasty little details such as reporting and technical production. On this newsletter, it was just me and a few other volunteers with the encouragement of the professional staff who are too busy to turn around at this time of year, let alone fool with a newsletter.

When it was all finished after weeks that involved some hair-pulling and cursing, mostly at the inanimate computer screen, I took the pages in to the Chamber office and received profuse thanks.

"I apologize for being so late," I told the director. "But I volunteered for a couple of other jobs and the details took a lot longer than I expected, particularly in working with unfamiliar computer programs."

"Hey," she responded with a friendly smile, "I thought I told you to say no to all other requests!"

"Um, I tried, but I seem to have this addiction to volunteering that I just can’t overcome," I said. "Hey, that gives me an idea. I think I’ll organize a 12-step program for people like me – I’ll call it Volunteers Addicted Anonymous! I may even invite you to the first meeting."

Now I’m trying to devise precepts, rules and regulations for VAA based loosely on AA and other successful self-help groups. The first step will be learning to say "no." The second step will be learning to say "no" louder. The third step will be trying to get out the door while someone is twisting your arm.

For the next eight, I am working with these suggestions:

Step Four: Avoid attending meetings of any kind without first contacting another member to accompany you and prevent you from holding up your hand when they call for volunteers.

Step Five: Never brag about your expertise in any field. It’s an invitation to volunteer-seeking groups to pounce on you when you have your guard down. Step Six: When you hear these words: "This will not take much time...", run.

Step Seven: Learn this sentence by rote and repeat it when anyone asks you to help "just this one time:" "I’m sorry. I’ve already volunteered for other jobs. I cannot take another one."

Step Eight: If you feel the urge to criticize another volunteer for not doing the job properly, suppress it. Remember, they will say, "Well, if you can do it any better..."

Step Nine: Warn family members and close friends not to volunteer on your behalf. If your spouse comes home and says: "Oh, by the way, honey, I told the lady from the Heart Association that you would compile a list of 500 addresses on your computer since you seem to be playing at that thing all the time," the appropriate response is: "Oh, I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I just trashed my hard disk." (Well, I guess our high-minded organization should not promote lying. I’ll have to work on this one.)

Step Ten: Don’t accept small bribes, such as free tickets to concerts or plush toys, in exchange for volunteer work.

Step Eleven: Go into hiding six weeks before the opening of any festival, fair, sport season or other major community event.

Step Twelve: Review Step One.