I'm sick, I'm cold, and somebody stole my bench. You'd think people would know better than to steal my bench or my chair or my corner by this point in life, but I guess not. So, here I am, sitting on the cold, hard floor of the BNSN because my bench has been stolen and I'm supposed to meet The Boy here in an hour (like we do every Monday and Wednesday).
Yes, Mom, I am singing in church on Sunday. 9am in the UPC chapel for anyone else who is interested as well. Probably I'm going to freak out about it because I've never sung in front of people before when I knew they'd be able to hear me specifically, but I figure since I'm the one that volunteered The Boy to sing, I'd probably ought to support him and sing with him if he asks me to. Which he did. (Well, technically it was my roommate that asked me to, but, you know.)
Anyway, that is all. The end.
"I think I know how it is to be grown up; it's when you feel how someone feels that isn't you." -Frances Griffiths