Sunday - written after the fact

Following another sleepless night Saturday, I ate my final instant oatmeal packed, finished my grapefruit juice, and actually managed to make it to church on Sunday morning for the first (and last) time this school year. I know it's pathetic I can't make it to something at 11am. I've have been intending to go all year, too, especially since I've been feeling dissatisfied with the chapel services; they're too...evangelical.

I was nearly there on time, too. I was about three minutes late, and could hear the minister talking. So I went up into the balcony so that I wouldn't disturb anybody, only to discover that there were no hymn books and no people up there which made me quite the opposite of unobtrusive. So I eventually joined the congregation downstairs (during the children's "discussion" time), where I was guardedly but warmly welcomed. I attracted unwanted attention, of course, but it was largely positive; a man came up and gave me a bulletin, and the man sitting nearest to me in the pew showed me the hymn book when it came time to sing again. (Already being a United Church member, I knew about these things already, but it was a nice gesture. It was like coming home to be at a United Church service again.)

I didn't notice Imogen anywhere in the sanctuary. She teaches Sunday School, so I figured, hey, she must be downstairs. It took me completely by surprise when I looked up during the Anthem to see her singing front and centre in the choir. Then as soon as it ended, she dashed downstairs; I wondered amusedly how often each Sunday she does that. (It turns out it's only once a week.)
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