Sundays

So like on Sundays I usually read the news in some form, try to have a discussion of if with Richard. Then we watch our neighbor Dwayne work around his property. The guys runs the tightest ship on earth and is only here on the weekends so he really hustles. He kinda provides the weekend's entertainment for us since we can't see the neighbors on the other side and can only hear them when they're arguing.

Then I take an afternoon nap.

It's a pretty good way to spend the day of rest. I usually talk on the phone to friends and sisters. But I sort of miss some of the things that go with going to church. But just thinking about going back makes me itch all over. I had way tooooo much church at the front end of my life.

Like my mom was a Bible scholar and worked at the church and was the choir director. And I was in the youth group and the choir and worked at the summer day camp and the afterschool care. And I practiacally lived at the church. I had some really good friends at the church. This is true.

But then there was always the guilt. I always felt that what I was not doing was what God wanted me to do. And I'm afraid of that now. If I go back to the church I'll be asked to do things, and I won't want to do them and I'll feel church goers guilt. And that's what makes my skin itch.

The magnificent life idea is that you do things you love. Being forced into do-goodery at the church doesn't match my idea of something I love. Although if I could do a bible study at the jail and help save some of those inmates from the relentlessly faithful Jehovah Wittnesses, I might reconsider.

Plus Richard doesn't believe. He likes our Sundays the way they are. And that means a lot to me.
So I guess I'll steer clear for a while from do-gooder guilt. I hate peer pressure. I'm not a joiner.