The good people of In N Out can be depended upon to ask how you're doing before they take your order. I've always thought it big of them and usually attempt to return the favor. As if either of us will say how we really are. It's a question I've answered with varying degrees of honesty; sometimes strangers can't handle the truth. (Or they look at you oddly for honestly communicating it.) Tonight at 9:58 pm, I wanted to respond, "mentally worn out and completely empty" but instead I smiled and placed my order. (Number three with onions, ketchup instead of the spread with root beer for in the car.)
Arriving home thirty minutes prior, after four hours of intense interaction with people, felt like a bombardment of needs. Superman wanted my opinion on which clothes to donate. Val wanted to talk about her chapped lip. Elaine wanted me to sing her bedtime song. I met the needs as best I could and then met a need of my own by driving away by myself. I didn't listen to the radio.
I didn't even play Ingress.
I wouldn't trade the two groups I'm a part of on Mondays for anything, but man they can take a toll on me. I'm ON ON ON (all GOOD GOOD GOOD) but when I get home I seriously need some OFF OFF OFF time.
Our family is looking for a new church home. I've always enjoyed observing people but I find observing people at church particularly interesting.
I know the observing goes both ways, especially in smaller gatherings, like the one we attended yesterday.
I tried not to care too much when Elaine spent most of the opening singing time with both fingers firmly (and not inconspicuously) planted in her ears. When I leaned over and quietly inquired as to the reason for her turning two deaf ears, she met me with a violent scowl and proceeded to say (loudly, so as to be heard over the song) "I'm mad because no one gave me breakfast." I was off the hook because I left the house before she was awake, but I wondered what else she told the Sunday school class teacher about her morning (which apparently had not gone well!)