Anxiety Dream #1011

So last night I dreamed I was sitting in Sacrament meeting, listening to one of my kids (it wasn't clear which one) (also, he was young again) give a talk I'd written out for him. Halfway through the talk, my kid says from the pulpit, "Mom, I can't read your handwriting any more."

At that point I stand up and explain to the congregation what I'd written--something about how I'd been a cheerleader once, because don't you know that's relevant spiritual information. And then, since I had the floor, I decided to tell a little joke.

Only no one laughed.

And even though I have been awake for nearly two hours now, I am still mortified for having bombed at church.

Brigham City

Thanks to librarian extraordinaire Sue Hill and the Utah Humanities Council, I spent a lovely evening in Brigham City talking about books and boys and how to connect the two. I enjoy these trips so much. I always meet people who know so much more than I do about the subject, and I leave feeling enriched.

BONUS POINTS! My parents offered to be my roadies this time. They schlepped in boxes of books before the event and held up cigarette lighters and roared their approval after the event. Also, we had dinner at Maddox. Dude. I am just all over that seafood cocktail.