Mission: Difficult (Like Growing a Hand)

Today has been rather eventful, considering it was a Sunday. It gave me a lot to think about, you know? Okay, first off, for the first Sabbath of many many I went TO church. Yay! The headache was NOT any better, but I needed to talk to Brother Adams about something. So I went. I did not stay long, not even in the chapel. Part way through the sacrament meeting (I guess the "sermon" part, basically, in some faiths?) I had to leave, but didn't want to leave. So I went into the library, turned out the lights and turned on the sound of the speaker so I could listen in the dark. That helped a little and at least kept the pain down enough so that I could stay a few more minutes and talk to the bishopric before going home and wanted to cry from pain. I didn't make it to my own house, but my parents'. I crashed on their couch till they came home. Then they had a thing they wanted me to go to, but by then I had pill'd it into submission... still bad, but I went to the farewell.

The Farewell was for JT who is little bro, Spencer's best friend. Actually, I really like JT. He is a really good kid, nice, and a sugar glider connection to the ones I rehabbed/rehomed. He is going on a mission to Japan for 2 years. He's a cool kid... but will have a hard time. He's kind of a mama's boy. Best of luck to him, though.

It also makes Spencer's mission seem more real... my baby bro even had his first real mission interview tonight. WEIRD.

Something else weird, well, it is making me think again. One of the people that stole my identity is up for parole and I am supposed to write a letter. I don't know, it is just hard to think what I want to SAY. The one that is up right now is the one that stole my medical insurance. She changed my medical records. I don't know, it is an emotional thing more than a financial thing PERSONALLY. Of course it was EXTREMELY expensive in terms of the insurance, deductibles... thousands and thousands... but for me, it was more about the idea that someone was out there pretending to be me, knowing the very most personal parts of my life and being able to change even my blood type and age. I don't know what to write, because she will read it, Collette, who is up for probation. So I feel more like I am writing to her. And I sort of WANT to. Just because I wonder if she thinks she just ripped off a faceless insurance company. Or if she thinks about the girl she pretended to be for so long?

And p.s. Satan is SUCH a boy ;O) hee hee!