Sunday's Are Special

Friday night I got my wish and we went to Target. I bought the first season of Pushing Daisies on DVD. I absolutely love that show. Gotta love that Kristin Chenoweth. I remember this time back a hundred years ago when then Kristi Chenoweth had just finished singing a song at a performance in front of the stage curtain and could not find the middle. She kept going a little further to the right, and then, looking panicked, would look back at the audience and smile. This went on for some time before she finally made it backstage. Funny what you remember about people you kind of knew before they were famous. Granted, it was 1982 and she was like 13 years old. Back to the point, I am beginning to question my fascination with death-related television series. At least this one is cute and almost wholesome. I used to mock people who were overly interested in death. Have I become that which I once mocked?

Saturday we went nowhere. Literally.

Sunday, started out with a major stressor. Several of my 8:15 choir members called Saturday to let me know they were sick and would not be available to sing Sunday morning. It would not be so bad, but that choir is already on the small side to begin with and when a few key singers are out, it makes for a big problem. So, it ended up I had to come up with a solo on the spot to fill the choir's void. It went fine and all things on Sunday went as planned after that. Except that I forgot we had this AED training to go to so that if someone needs to be shocked back to life, we would know how to listen to the machine tell you what to do. Interesting.

I spent much of my time at church this afternoon preparing to meet with my children's music group. They have very little discipline and it drives me crazy. I have to discipline at home and I really do not want to tell other people's children to be quiet or the devil might come down the stairs and eat them up. My children know to be aware of the horned and hoofed one.

So, after spending the evening with my children's "choir", I decided to go to Wendy's to get something for dinner. I don't care for Wendy's because every time I go there they get something wrong. This time was no exception. I waited in line for close to 20 minutes, which was fine. I was having a lovely time listening to someone on NPR prattle on about water and why it is stupid to drink bottled water. Don't get me started on how "green" people think they are acting when the drink bottled tap water. I digress. So I finally got to the pick-up window, when I was told that they had no Diet Coke. I asked the young man at the window why it was that I had been in the line so long and had never been told that they were out of what I had ordered. No real answer. I asked for my money back. A few minutes later, he brought me 50 cents. I asked if this could possibly be how much my soft drink had cost. And he told me it was indeed how much it cost because it was part of a value meal. I gave him the 50 cents back and told him to have a drink on me. He laughed and told me I was funny. He also called me Dude. I drove off. I think there must be a quota of "special" people that Wendy's has to meet in order to stay in business.

And now, the week begins again.