Break it down again
Please note: If you have a strong gag reflex, you may want to skip reading this blog entry.
Let me start by telling you that I have never been a particularly graceful person. I am the sixth grader in the picture with the mayor with chocolate ice cream down my front. I am the girl in elementary school who threw up in the lunchroom, in Matt Sauer's pencil box during reading time, seven times on a camping trip, twenty minutes after my husband proposed to me and countless other, extremely embarrassing times.
I was hoping to out-grow my graceless, messy ways by now, by thirty. But no.
This morning, after a month that has already put me through the ringer, I sneezed with a mouth full of chicken during our church pot-luck. Bits everywhere. The person next to me may never come near me again. I took my plate to an empty classroom where I then could not stop crying.
When I returned, after making sure there were no more chicken bits on my person, I continued to cry until I could go home and sleep for a few hours.
I will now refer to this as the chicken-bit breakdown of 2006. I should be writing this from a padded room, but I'm actually a lot better now. I'm telling you all of this because I am tired of trying not to be something that I am: A total mess.
posted by One in a million Saras @ 9:15 PM
4 Comments:
Sara,
I wish you had been at First Lutheran yesterday. The sermon theme was basically that nothing is perfect. Not a church, not "the church", not people, not pastors, etc. This was a sermon directed at 24 new confirmands, and although I wasn't impressed by the message Pastor Lund directed to all these new "adult" church-goers, he was pretty direct about trying to get us all to give up that pursuit of perfection. We are all perfect, in our imperfectness, in God's eye. Hang in there. You are loved. Just as you are. Chicken bits and all.
I'm with Diane. I also think you're too hard on yourself. It's not like you're puking all over the place. You don't have the nickname "The Yakker" or anything. You just have bizarre things happen to you. Maybe you should write a book: Places I've Puked. Could be a best-seller. I bet Zane would read it.
Also...
one of the few saving graces about getting old (yikes..I know this personally!) is that you care less and less about what other people are thinking. And are more comfortable with who you are. And to quasi quote Dr. Phil's father...you wouldn't worry about what other people were thinking of you if you knew how little (infrequently) they thought of you!
I'd read the book, too!
Oh Sara, so that's what happened. If we were a different religion or denomination I could give you absolution, but we'll just have coffee and I won't even sit too far away from you (although I don't expect any chicken at the time.) :)
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