The Day of Rest has No Rest for the Wicked

Sunday. The day of rest.

So I rested.

It's going to be a busy week, as I am preparing for a trade show next week so I planned on milking Sunday for all I could.

I'll spare you any cat stories for today - mainly because it would take too long, and I'd have to tell you about the scratches on my arms, and I don't want to. Besides, it hurts to type, and I want to keep today's bloggitty thing short.

An odd thing happened just after lunch. I got a call from Jesus. Apparently the little visitor's card I filled out at church last week made it all the way to the big guy's inbox, and my absence from his place of worship was noticed and I was being called to account. It was a pre-recorded message telling me that his dad really loved the world, so much so that he was sent to earth to be the propitiation (I'm going to have to look that one up later, but it sounds pretty bloody impressive) for my sins, and that after the the crap and abuse (um, that's a paraphrase) he took on my behalf, he really didn't think it was too much to expect that I could have a little respect and come to church. Besides, the church he wanted me to attend had really great coffee and convenient hours with three services to choose from on Sunday - so I could make some effort to be grateful.

That got me thinking about coffee so I called up Margaret and asked her if she wanted to grab a coffee. I met her a half hour later. She was just getting her chai tea latte from Cindi, and by the time I was at the counter she had a large black coffee waiting for me. She wouldn't take the money from my hand. She asked me to put it on the counter, and she'd get me my change. Margaret gave me a WTF look, and I just shrugged.

Anyway, we spend a pleasant afternoon together chatting, and I had to listen to more about Keira Knightley and how pretty she was in her period costumes. I made a comment about how it was my turn to choose the next movie, and I was looking forward to picking it up a DVD I'd not seen before starring Bruce Campbell. This more of less killed the conversation. She still hasn't forgiven me for making her watch Bubba Ho-Tep.

Tomorrow is Monday, and I have some odds and ends to look after. I should probably go and see Vernon, my accountant. I'll see how I feel in the morning. I have to go out anyway, as I need more gloves.