real [or imagined] pain

It’s been one of those days. It started when I got on facebook and saw a post that was so NOT completely true and I’ve let my frustrations get the best of me all day.

Other than that, um, gee, I was going to say, it’s been great.

But, I’ve had a few more frustrations today, other than that.

OK. Imagine that you love teaching Fourth Sunday Relief Society. You love it a lot. It has changed your life for the better. Whereas you struggled with your testimony beforehand, teaching from the Ensign and all those wonderful conference talks has grown your faith, your commitment, your hope, your spirituality, even your temple attendance and your prayers and scripture study. Now imagine that you struggle with getting anyone to actually comment during your lessons. Imagine trying to come up with thirteen different ways to get people to *just talk*. Imagine crying a lot about it. Imagine talking to your two daughters about it, pretty much non-stop, the day/week of your lesson.

OK. Imagine that you went to Relief Society today and listened to the lesson. Imagine that you are OCD and that you might occasionally glance around the room at all the people and that you can’t help yourself from actually counting the 21 sisters in the room. Now imagine that you notice there is A HECK OF A LOT OF COMMENTING GOING ON DURING THE LESSON. Imagine that you start counting all the sisters who have verbally contributed to the lesson. Imagine that you counted TWICE and both times you came up with 17 sisters making not just one, but multiple comments. Imagine that you start to CRY in the lesson because you are totally jealous about it. Imagine blabbling about it to Sister Batt after RS and making a total fool of yourself. Imagine glancing in the mirror as you are driving out of the parking lot and seeing mascara running down your right cheek because you are so DANG bizarre!

OK. That’s pretty ridiculous. So all I can come up with is that I’M RIDICULOUS.

Not a lot happening in the feel-good department on this Sabbath Day!

Now that we’re through with the little guided imagry tour [of you imagining that happened to you . . .] picture coming home and eating yourself sick. Granted, I ate a whole lot of healthy three-and-a-half bean salad. But, just because something is good for you, doesn’t mean that six cups of it is better for you!

Yes, I ache and yes I forgot to take Beano before hand.

All I can say, is sometimes it hurts to be me.