Skipping Rescheduling Christmas

aka "Let's Do the Time Warp Again"

For various familial reasons it was decided that Christmas Day didn't fit into our collective schedules this year. So we had Christmas yesterday. This meant a week less to shop for gifts, a week less for gifts to arrive from online merchants (still waiting on several) and basic confusion on my part. Being as most of the world saw it as an ordinary Sunday, or at most the last Sunday in Advent, the phone would ring at various times throughout the day, and many of us would look up and say "How ru-- oh." over and over again. (okay, I forgot more than anyone else. Sue me. HA! You can't, it's Christma- oh.)

We had a lovely day, despite some distant relative that I don't remember ever meeting before butting his nose into why I don't want my husband to get a motorcycle, and suggesting ways for manipulation to get his way (1. I'm too smart to fall for the manipulation, thank you, and 2. manipulation? wonder why your marriages always fail? ponder that for a while...) Ass.

After that, we went to my parents' church, where my brother (who doesn't get a link to his blog since it hasn't been updated this century) was guest preaching, and also singing. He'd brought along one and a half friends to help sing. That is, one friend spent the whole day with us, another just met us at the church. In any event, when we got to the church the choir was warming up and I was yearning to hop in and join them. I guess I was vibing pretty bad because they asked if I wanted to sing. I'm not sure the whole question was out of their mouths before I had grabbed someone's sheet music and found a place in the loft. Aside from my brother's birthday song, I haven't actually sung anything since the surgery, and I haven't really been cleared by the surgeon to sing yet. A little singing in the car, and I sang Martha Happy Birthday on her answering machine. But really, it's been months since it mattered if it sounded good. It was SOOOO much fun. And it didn't sound all that good, not to me, but my brother always jokes that gay churches are heavy on altos and tenors, and I'm a soprano, so I was needed, and those high notes felt so good....

And then I wake up this morning feeling like I spent hours at the gym. My legs hurt, my arms hurt, my back hurts...

But I sang!

I just might have to go back and do that again!!!