Wednesdays, part two.
The clean clothes are all the nice ones and so I dress up a little more than I usually would for a Wednesday. It’s mostly the gray slacks, which fit me as if they were tailored and to my delight I found at Goodwill. The neon blue water wristband gets snapped on, not to come off for two weeks, and I’m reminded of the weeks of summer tank when we couldn’t wait to cut off our ‘tags’ at the end of the week. This is one I’ve chosen to wear.
Driving to work at 12:50pm is amazing. I encounter no traffic and my somewhat dirty ‘little book mobile’ lightly runs over the roads, as if by memory, going a bit faster than is actually allowable and slowing down to see if I can get a glimpse of the horses that reside in the only boarder’s stable in McLean. Alas. They are in.
Pulling into the lot I throw my homemade windshield cover on in a hope that later on tonight I can whisk the whole thing off with a beautifully clear windshield underneath. I stroll into the office. The familiar padded carpet is comfortable beneath my feet, giving me a little extra propulsion and bounce to my step. The youth office is nice and warm.
The afternoon is spent chatting about basketball days with the principal, having a discussion with my bosses about the same-sex attraction talk I went to the night before, filing Confirmation papers, glancing at the workcamp budget again, scarfing down dinner before my youth groupers show up, and setting up the usual feast of soda and chips to quell their rumbling stomachs.
A few drop in; we lounge on the couches and beanbags and conversations about driver’s ed, SOL’s, photography, and knee surgery flows and ebbs into each other. The migrant stage of drop-in occurs and we each wander in and out of rooms; some studying in the library, others stationed with the newest You Tube video to show another, a few serious thoughts passed like a dash of salt and pepper on mashed potatoes. I suggest a video, and to my delight, they are amused by the series and so we watch the videos over and over as each new person arrives. I mentally thank my friend for posting that appropriate funny video on his journal a while back.
8pm rolls around and they head out to do homework while I use the time as an opportunity to make a few phone calls. My workday ends with joy as I realize all the workcampers can attend the meeting this Sunday. The first full group gathering! I’m looking forward to it.
I switch off lights, rearrange chairs, clean out the chip bowls and lock up. I whisk the windshield cover off my car, and am pleased to see that I have a clear enough patch to guide my way home. I turn on some mellow piano, try not to flash my brights in anyone’s eyes, and pull into our driveway, careful to park far enough up so that both of my parents’ cars can still get out.
My evening is almost over. I stop in to say hello to everyone and end up watching half an episode of “Home Improvement” with Charing and sorting through grocery coupons. A few pleasant and unexpected conversations on IM with longtime friends, a good shower, comfy flannel pj’s and a book to round off my day. Content, I snuggle under the layers of blankets and drift off for another day.
Driving to work at 12:50pm is amazing. I encounter no traffic and my somewhat dirty ‘little book mobile’ lightly runs over the roads, as if by memory, going a bit faster than is actually allowable and slowing down to see if I can get a glimpse of the horses that reside in the only boarder’s stable in McLean. Alas. They are in.
Pulling into the lot I throw my homemade windshield cover on in a hope that later on tonight I can whisk the whole thing off with a beautifully clear windshield underneath. I stroll into the office. The familiar padded carpet is comfortable beneath my feet, giving me a little extra propulsion and bounce to my step. The youth office is nice and warm.
The afternoon is spent chatting about basketball days with the principal, having a discussion with my bosses about the same-sex attraction talk I went to the night before, filing Confirmation papers, glancing at the workcamp budget again, scarfing down dinner before my youth groupers show up, and setting up the usual feast of soda and chips to quell their rumbling stomachs.
A few drop in; we lounge on the couches and beanbags and conversations about driver’s ed, SOL’s, photography, and knee surgery flows and ebbs into each other. The migrant stage of drop-in occurs and we each wander in and out of rooms; some studying in the library, others stationed with the newest You Tube video to show another, a few serious thoughts passed like a dash of salt and pepper on mashed potatoes. I suggest a video, and to my delight, they are amused by the series and so we watch the videos over and over as each new person arrives. I mentally thank my friend for posting that appropriate funny video on his journal a while back.
8pm rolls around and they head out to do homework while I use the time as an opportunity to make a few phone calls. My workday ends with joy as I realize all the workcampers can attend the meeting this Sunday. The first full group gathering! I’m looking forward to it.
I switch off lights, rearrange chairs, clean out the chip bowls and lock up. I whisk the windshield cover off my car, and am pleased to see that I have a clear enough patch to guide my way home. I turn on some mellow piano, try not to flash my brights in anyone’s eyes, and pull into our driveway, careful to park far enough up so that both of my parents’ cars can still get out.
My evening is almost over. I stop in to say hello to everyone and end up watching half an episode of “Home Improvement” with Charing and sorting through grocery coupons. A few pleasant and unexpected conversations on IM with longtime friends, a good shower, comfy flannel pj’s and a book to round off my day. Content, I snuggle under the layers of blankets and drift off for another day.