Dear diary,
I’m taking my break, munching on Cliff Energy Bar from Costco, which is only one minute away from my old home.
My thumbs won’t stop working. It’s my lifeline for y’all. I learned Sunday morning that the Lawd Gawd might be adding more to my plate, but I’m rationalizing that humanz can squander stuff and NOT finish college courses.
In the past week or so, and last night, Mister Mel is becoming seriously injured, but because he’s clueless, he doesn’t know when to stop. So the Lawd Gawd is adding yet another stress factor to my plate.
Last Friday too did not bode well as I’m messing up stuff. I’m stressed out from imperfection. And I knew that one email wasn’t gonna go well, which was why I delayed it three days. So I’m hoping for stress relief if I’m gonna survive the plan of the Lawd Gawd.
For the past few Sundays, the deacon has revealed stuff that seemed directed unto moi. One sermon was about NOT taking the bait. This one was about learning to be there for each other, but I forget exactly my thoughts.
Last Saturday night we attended a choir member’s 18th birthday party. I was enjoying the simplistic event – plastic plates and utensils, dinner buffet, and small dance floor. The DJ played my favorite old school sounds. I was bouncing in my seat. A parishioner was joking, always a joker, and kept my daddy happy.
I gotta go.
Sincerely,
Flynn B letting the Lawd Gawd do the stuff.
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