Ignoring the light pouring through the blinds, I drag myself over to the alarm clock and read the time. 6:47 a.m. I still have time. I hit the snooze button and fall back into bed, curling up under the quilt. It's cold. I left the window open last night. What time did I fall asleep? After midnight, surely.
At 7:04 a.m. the music starts again. I try to squirm out of the quilt and get over to the clock at the same time. It doesn't work; I fall off the bed. Once I get the blasted alarm off, I make my way to the shower. The hot water doesn't help my drowsiness. I slowly twist the knob to the cold side, trying to get the perfect temperature. Not too hot, not too cold. Lukewarm?
Twenty minutes later (okay, more like thirty), I'm back in my room. My curls are carefully sculpted with mousse and my make up is almost perfect. Just a few last minute adjustments and I'm ready. I'm almost late.
Oh, Primary. I'm grouchy and tired, my hair is still slightly damp, and I can still taste my breakfast despite my vigorous teeth-brushing. I unwrap a stick of green gum as I wonder how I'm going to pull this off. The chorister isn't here today. I'm on my own during Singing Time. Lovely.
What...is...happening? Did the parents feed their children pure caffeine and sugar for breakfast? I'm in over my head. I constantly check the clock, hoping it's 10:40. It only makes the time go slower.
Finally. As soon as the last child is out the door, I stop playing the postlude music. I just want to go back to bed. My brain is fried. Should I try to sit in the chapel today? Probably.
I pick a spot closest to the end of the pew, right next to my younger brother. He snuggles into my shoulder as the meeting begins.
Thirty minutes to go. I know I shouldn't be checking the time, but I can't help it. I'm exhausted. I take a look around as the speaker drones on. A few of my Primary kids catch my eye and wave. One little 2-year-old squeaks, "Hi Bahneeee!" earning a few chuckles from the surrounding people. I smile at him and make a face. He giggles.
Turning my attention back to the speaker, I realize that I'm enjoying the topic. It's Father's Day. This father is talking about his kids, growing up, his dad, being a parent, etc. I love hearing about parenthood. It makes me feel that I might be a little more prepared when it's my turn.
The final speaker finishes his talk early. 11:50 a.m. A new record, I think. Before I know it, the meeting is over and families are filing out of the chapel. I walk out of the building and into the beautiful, glorious sunlight. Sighhhhhhh. Now, was that so bad? Not really. My nerves are still a little crazy from the stressful Singing Time, but...that's nothing a nap can't fix. I climb into the car along with the rest of my family. It's quiet. They're probably just as tired as I am.
I'm home. I stagger into my bedroom and peel off my hot cardigan. I won't bother changing out of my undershirt and jean skirt; I don't have time. I can already feel my eyelids getting heavier. The breeze from my open window and sunlight filtering through the blinds creates the perfect climate. I'm unconscious before I hit the pillow.
3 comments:
nice writing, as usual!
Bonnie, you are such a good writer. I never knew you had such a talent! :) I enjoy your posts!
You are a gifted writer, Bonnie girl! Great job!
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