I woke up cranky, knowing I had a ton of things to do, no new e-mail (strike 1 for the male species), and the sky was gray. (That's enough reason to be cranky, right?!) Anywho, headed to Starbucks for my Iced Green Tea Latte. The old guys at church usually tease me about my strange green drink. I've just told them that it's guacamole. That usually stops the teasing.
Bjørk, the new Starbucks goon, has no idea what this drink is, where to find it on the keypad, and refuses to ask the more seasoned employee behind him for help. Men. Strike 2 for the day. He rings me up with the wrong price, which I can't let go. He was going to charge me $1.80 for my $3.80 drink. While I wouldn't mind the extra change, I can't begin a Sunday morning by ripping off the local Starbucks, even if Bjørk can't figure things out. Good karma, right?
Off to church. Green drink in hand, I whip around the Round-about twice, narrowly avoiding the approaching cops. I'll consider that the instant karma payoff, as I wasn't seen or stopped by Mr. Police man.
The service was supposed to start at 8:00, but the promptness was delayed by the TWELVE minute prelude by the new organist. Now, while it was nice to actually hear the instrument being played happily for once, 12 minutes? Ladies and gentlemen, the ego has entered the sanctuary. ARGH. Strike 3.
I tried to pay attention today, but was really distracted. Why, you say?
- Gophers. Yes, gophers. They kept popping up in the field next to our church. Pop. Pop again. Hysterical.
- 18 fans. All running during the service. Not sure I heard more than 3 words.
- Retired pastor. 100 years old, maximum speaking speed: 10 mph.
- Sound system. Off, on, off, sort of on, crackle, off. Lovely.
- Nose ring. Mentioned in the Scriptures today. Again, hysterical. Genesis.
- Mumbler. What we were called by the 100 year old pastor. Perhaps it was all the fans.
COME ON. No one can be expected to focus under THESE circumstances. And please don't forget the gophers. Pop.