This weekend is going to be a long one. A few things going on that require my attention to some degree. It's not a great time to be sick, but that I am. It's because I associate with germy people and don't wear a jacket when it's cold. Ever.
An Uncle died during the week and the family are traveling to Wellington to the funeral tomorrow. My Mum near begged my to go, but I didn't want to go. They may not be home in time for the Primary Halloween trunk or treat, don't want to go to that either. I'll be glad when that's over with. Sunday morning rugby. It's the last one guys so if you haven't booked it, book it. Naturally I'm Team All Blacks and it's Richie's last game as a professional rugby player before his retirement (that he hasn't officially announced yet). There will be tears ... mostly in Australia.
This part of the post is where I vent about my church calling.
I've been in the primary for far too long.
FAR. TOO. LONG.
Let's see ... at 18 I was called as Stake Primary Secretary. When I got married I was called as Primary Pianist. That lasted 10 years. When we moved home I was called as Primary Pianist. In the last 6 years they've added onto that calling Second Counselor to the primary and primary music director.
I need out ASAP because tonight, I officially hate my calling.
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