While the harsh reality that I work at a church might suggest that I am, in fact, immune to the typical distractions that vie for the attention of the general masses, it’s far from true. Take this morning, for instance. I sprang forward at dark thirty to get to work, and in my dazed stupor decided to dress for spring. [In my defense, I’d only had two cups of coffee. Maybe three.] My winter-white legs and I ran outside only to be greeted by an iced over windshield and positively arctic weather-something my cute little blue skirt and t-shirt were ill-equipped to handle. Given the fact the very idea of being even five minutes late to anything in life sends me straight into an ugly cry, I de-iced the windshield with a name tag I found in my back seat [I lead a very glamorous life.], hopped in my little blue Bug, and violently shivered all the way to work. I spent the duration of the sermon hallucinating that I was Kate Winslet floating on a piece of the Titanic amidst frozen chunks of ice burg. I desperately wanted to get up and run back to my warm office, but that would have meant stepping outside which would have meant MORE COLD. And so I sat there humming “My Heart Will Go On” through blue lips and chattering teeth while the rest of the congregation learned something about the Holy Spirit.
For the record, it is not in fact spring.
I loathe, despise and abominate springing forward. Nothing good can come from this madness! Anyone who claims otherwise is a liar and a socialist.
Speaking of madness, I’m also not wild about my Heels losing to FSU-but then, we’ve got bigger fish to fry now haven’t we?
John Henson, any time you want to get over that wrist thing is good with me. You know. So I don’t stroke out.
Go Heels, go America!
