I'm tired. So tired and wiped and tired. Today has been... ug. This post is going to be LDS-centric so if you don't understand the terms, go find a Mormon and they'll esplain 'em to you.
I'm the Young Women's president. I'm still feeling like I'm floundering, and playing catch up. This week is Evening of Excellence and when I look on the interwebs for ideas, I see these huge elaborate shin-digs lovely ladies in Utah throw that look more put together than the average wedding. I am not that kind of person. My own wedding didn't look like as staged as some of these events. I want to do something nice, and I think it will be, but I also think it will feel discombobulated and patched together. In parts.
It's really the anticipation that gets me. The unknown of what will happen. I've never done anything like this before. Once it's over I know I'll be all "what was I afraid of?? psshhhhh." But not yet.
The husband got officially called into the bishopric this morning. And logically, it shouldn't be a big deal. It's what, one more meeting a week? We already do ward council together and he already had meetings after church. But sitting by myself during sacrament meeting has had me in knots. Why? It's just one hour a week. So simple.
I've been sick about it for weeks. And since it's not something you are supposed to gab about, it's been sitting on me, blowing itself out of proportion. This morning as sacrament meeting started, he held the Dude while I tried not to hyperventilate. Then when he was called up to the stand, I grabbed the Dude and tried not to openly cry, especially because I didn't want people to think I wasn't being supportive, I was just scared about this small change in my schedule.
I looked straight ahead with my hair in my face and prayed no one could see me, but the lady in front of me turned around, smiled and asked me if I wanted her to sit with me. Now normally, I'm all "nuh-uh, I got this." But since I was trying my hardest not to openly start sobbing like a big illogical boob, I just nodded my head and she slipped into our row.
Was the Dude perfect? No. Was WonderGirl perfect? No. Did the Dude crawl all over me and pull my skirt up repeatedly exposing me to everyone sitting around me? Oh yeah he did. But all of the build up, the sick stomach and worry lasted about 5 seconds between the husband left and my lovely friend/tender mercy sat next to me.
We won't go into the poor job of babysitting and hosting I did the rest of the day...but today is over. The unknown is less unknown for the moment.
Oh, and there's the little matter of me shattering my phone Friday night. But that's another story. Happy Sabbath!