Day Eight

This will be a short post, because I posted fairly late yesterday. It is 2:30am, and I am just winding down from the dance. I have collected the data that my Visiting Teaching route supervisors have provided. If I can bat my eyes and get some computer time tomorrow, I will be able to enter this into the system and maybe get a leg up on the changes we’ve made to the VT routes. Not a lot of them. Not a big fan of new broom sweeps clean; more inclined toward if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

I realized, either on the drive home or once I got here, that I’ve made no arrangements for somebody to conduct RS tomorrow. Perhaps I have been a wee bit too much on vacation this past week?

Thank goodness I have the hymns and the conducting form saved on my hard drive.

There were maybe 30-40 people at the dance. But I went. I officially supported the official event for the official program for the singles. When the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be the one with the calluses from dancing East Coast Swing in my bare feet.

I danced with Brother Yummy to Chaka Khan’s I Want, and line-danced to Boot-Scootin’ Boogie and tore up the floor with The Good Brother on Shy Best Man. Stopped at Wally World on the way home and picked up milk, juice, and cereal while it was still Saturday night. Ran through the drive-up for a small order of fries and a root beer, so that I could stay awake on the drive home.

My knee feels as if someone had wrenched it off and beaten a rug with it, then put it on backwards. I somehow doubt that three hours of sleep is going to fix that. I have my first meeting in four hours.

Oye. As Brother Garth B sings, I’m much too young to feel this d*** old.