When Elizabeth picked me up from the airport on Monday she brought a thermos of broccoli soup with her, and some home-made muffins. It almost made me cry. The last real thing I had had to eat was an amazingly good barbecue briscuit sandwich in the Dallas Airport, like ten hours earlier.
Yes, we use food too much for comfort, but it's a kind of comfort that works sometimes.
I am going for a massage tomorrow for the simple reason that my jaw is clenched so tight I can feel my shoulders creeping up toward my ears in response. I did a lot of stretching this morning but unexpected ministerial obligations prevented me getting to the gym.
I just had no idea this trip would be so exhausting.
It's 8:30 pm and I might just call it quits for the day. My sermon sucketh mightily but you know what? I have a Board retreat all day Saturday followed by a church potluck (for which I should cook something, but won't -- if I can't feed myself I sure can't feed anyone else). The sermon is honest, passionate, as coherent as I can be right now, and it will have to do.
I will undoubtedly pick at it tomorrow but I have decided that grocery shopping is my #1 priority, followed by a swim.