Oh, Emma
Morning Prayer
I woke up this morning and laid around in bed until my alarm clock went off. When it went off, I did my usual morning panic thing that involves unzipping my sleeping bag enough that I can stumble off my bed and crawl over to the corner with the alarm, and turn off the ungodly noise. I wouldn’t even have to deal with it if I just got up leisurely when I actually wake up.
After that, I wandered around my room and pawed through my clean laundry, wondering what to wear today. I decided on an outfit, and then started playing with my hair. I combed it, put most of it up in a bun, and then curled the tendrils that were left out. Unfortunately, the curls ended up atrociously curly - although I’m wondering if that curling iron might be able to make it possible for me to get a ‘fro… something to try at some point? I then tried to relax them a bit hurriedly, as I realized what time it was. I was late!
On the days that I don’t have school, I’m trying to get myself out to Morning Prayer at 9 at St. Marks, as it is something that I will get out of bed for. Otherwise, I find myself still in bed when noon rolls around, and it throws off my sleeping schedule. However, this morning I dallied too much, and I was late! I wouldn’t make it if I walked, I had to take my car.
I went out to my car (and later found out that I left the door unlocked - eeks!), and left for church. I accidentally drove over the curb at Fulton and Division - guess I do take after mom - and then as I approached Division and Pearl, I realized that there was still construction going on. Right in front of the church. Therefore, I had to navigate through the construction and pull into the church driveway immediately after I got past it, which I’m sure scared the car behind me. I don’t have a pass card to let me into the parking lot, so I honked for Mary to let me in.
I couldn’t get in. Confused, I ran up to the church and looked in. No Mary! Where could she be? However, I knew I wasn’t going to get into the parking lot, as no one was there to let me in. Therefore, I backed out carefully, and when the moment looked right - as it’s rather hard to see around cement trucks - plunged into the traffic again. I took the next left that I could, and parked in front of 52 Lyon St. I scrounged around for coins, and ended up putting every last dime and nickel into the parking meter in order to have the 30 minutes that I needed. Having done that, I ran back up to the church.
The door was locked! I peered in the windows, and it was dark inside, but there were cars in the parking lot - surely someone was inside? Then, I saw a car pull up and come into the parking lot, as they had a pass card. I sat down and waited on the bench for them to come let me in with them. They got out of their car, started walking away… and then turned towards Division, and crossed the street.
That was useful.
So, now I knew that people with pass cards were parking in the parking lot, but not actually going to the church. I knew that there was another door around on the other side that led to the chapel directly, so I walked over there, passing the construction workers as I did so. However, that door too was locked, and I couldn’t get inside! I look inside for a light in the chapel, to indicate that Morning Prayer was going on, and couldn’t see one! No light, no Mary, no open door, and it’s now past 9! What could be going on?
I walked past the construction workers again, albeit slower this time, and walked back to my car. I figured that if I’m going to the confirmation service later tonight, I could just ask someone then why there was unexpectedly no morning prayer. I got back into my car and drove away, watching a van pull into the spot that I just vacated. I wished them good use of the remaining 25 minutes on my parking meter, and came back home.
I wandered around, trying to figure out what I should do with the rest of my day. After all, I’ve got no school, no job, but I want to stick around for tonight instead of going home to the family. I don’t much feel like doing homework, and I can’t play guitar if the housemates aren’t up yet. I really should clean my room, but I just don’t feel like it. Perhaps I should…
And then it struck me.
I looked at my watch, once again, but this time I read the hour, and not just the minutes. It was 8:20. I was definitely one hour early for morning prayer.
I couldn’t help but wonder what the construction workers thought as they saw me walking by once again, an hour later.