Out of sorts
I was feeling a bit out of sorts today. I overslept, and as a creature of habit, that set me off on the wrong foot.
For once I was finding it hard to be relaxed and patient at Resurrection House. The House was mobbed, partly because this was “‘bus pass day” when subsidised weekly ‘bus passes are sold for $2. That always draws a crowd.
Another agency was in the House, offering free AIDS tests, with a bonus of a $10 supermarket gift token for those willing to be tested.
That drew another large crowd. Anxiety levels were high, no one wanting to miss out on the ‘bus passes or the supermarket gift tokens. (Would I queue for 2 hours to get a $10 voucher?)
One guest became verbally abusive when I caught him “jumping the shower line”. And my dear B, a woman in her seventies was asked to leave as she was breaking one of the rules - an important rule. But I hated to see her leave in tears.
I came home quite “grumped out”. I’d been invited to a Hallowe’en party, but I wanted to stay home. I farted and fretted around, trying to work on a sermon for next Sunday when I am preaching at St. David’s.
But I went to the party. One man came as a quite convincing Mozart costume. He was delighted when I identified him as Wolfgang, so I told him that my name was Salieri. Keith was dressed as a quite convincing Queen Mother. Barbara and Kay came as Nuns. My “costume” was minimal. A Red Sox hat, and a Red Sox sweater, with a sign attached “I love to scare Yankee Fans”.
I am glad that I went to the party. But it was very low key. There was good food and good company, but the atmosphere was quite muted.
Then I “got it”. Our friend Bruce was not there. He would have been the life and soul of the party, with his jokes and endless stories. Everyone wanted to be near Bruce.
Ben, Bruce’s partner and I left early. We’d had a good enough time, thanks to our gracious hosts, but something had been missing.
We miss Bruce so much. I miss Bruce so much. I HATE the fact that he has died.
Maybe that’s why I have been out of sorts all day.
For once I was finding it hard to be relaxed and patient at Resurrection House. The House was mobbed, partly because this was “‘bus pass day” when subsidised weekly ‘bus passes are sold for $2. That always draws a crowd.
Another agency was in the House, offering free AIDS tests, with a bonus of a $10 supermarket gift token for those willing to be tested.
That drew another large crowd. Anxiety levels were high, no one wanting to miss out on the ‘bus passes or the supermarket gift tokens. (Would I queue for 2 hours to get a $10 voucher?)
One guest became verbally abusive when I caught him “jumping the shower line”. And my dear B, a woman in her seventies was asked to leave as she was breaking one of the rules - an important rule. But I hated to see her leave in tears.
I came home quite “grumped out”. I’d been invited to a Hallowe’en party, but I wanted to stay home. I farted and fretted around, trying to work on a sermon for next Sunday when I am preaching at St. David’s.
But I went to the party. One man came as a quite convincing Mozart costume. He was delighted when I identified him as Wolfgang, so I told him that my name was Salieri. Keith was dressed as a quite convincing Queen Mother. Barbara and Kay came as Nuns. My “costume” was minimal. A Red Sox hat, and a Red Sox sweater, with a sign attached “I love to scare Yankee Fans”.
I am glad that I went to the party. But it was very low key. There was good food and good company, but the atmosphere was quite muted.
Then I “got it”. Our friend Bruce was not there. He would have been the life and soul of the party, with his jokes and endless stories. Everyone wanted to be near Bruce.
Ben, Bruce’s partner and I left early. We’d had a good enough time, thanks to our gracious hosts, but something had been missing.
We miss Bruce so much. I miss Bruce so much. I HATE the fact that he has died.
Maybe that’s why I have been out of sorts all day.
{{{Michael}}}
ReplyDeleteHope today's a little better. I'll keep Bruce and all those who miss him in my thoughts and prayers -- especially appropriate on All Saints Day.