(and NO!, I didn’t cave and e-mail Mister, Mister).
I went to CHURCH. Yep, on the first Sunday of Advent. I guess it’s all part of my transformation– my attempt to turn over a new leaf.
It was weird being inside– kinda like a time warp. Ten years… and yet everything still looked the same, smelled (smelt?) the same. Same hymns, same readings.
And get this– next week I’m going to confession. Yep, you read that correctly. I’m gonna confess to the parish priest. No half-assed commitments where the church is concerned– I’m comin’ clean (and in return, i’m hoping i gain a little clarity).
Hell, maybe i should take my temperature. In a very strange way, this is so UNLIKE me that it concerns me a little. Honestly, who– meaning those of us who haven’t been to church in ten+ years– just wakes up 45 minutes before early mass and announces to their family that they’ve decided to go to church this morning? Ummm, ME! And then when i get to church, i realize that it’s the first Sunday of Advent… (no shit!)
And, shucks– my hubby was like a proud parent: holding my hand on the church steps and then putting his arm around my shoulders when we took our seats. Who knew this would “ring his bell?” (… now, if only they served margaritas or dirty martinis at communion, then i’d be feelin’ his excitement!)
Honestly, it wasn’t bad… not bad at all. I even think I can make it the next three Sundays…
(I even think I can make it the next three Sundays)
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