The migrane visited Saturday morning and then stayed until Monday morning.
Not the type of God sighting I was expecting.
Not at all.
Sitting in the Chair most of Saturday in a catatonic state. Somehow got to church on Sunday. Made it through Sunday School and the Service.
Back in the Chair until bedtime. Woke up with the Thorn still hangin' on and stickin' in.
Cleaned off four inches of new, wet, concrete snow from the cars.
Made it to work. Buried the car in the parking lot. Sat at the desk, staring numbly out the window on autopilot. Strictly reactive. No thinking, just an automaton.
Then, at sometime, the Thorn left. Customers became interesting. I was thinking ahead, planning things. Back to normal.
I'm now typing this at the Library, waiting for piano lessons to conclude so I can go back home.
As I got outta the car, the church's carillon began to play a hymn. I stood still, trying to identify the song from two blocks away. It wasn't familiar to me, but it was still pretty. The bells were accompanied by Ron's snowblower, chugging and churning out a staccato beat from across the street.
The snow was falling. The type of snow that makes you think of angels having pillow fights high above.
I stood still in the feather-down snow as it swirled down to mix with the bells' song and the chugging of the snowblower, the sky blushing a soft pink and grey sunset.
Wow. A God sighting for sure.
And free, hot coffee in the Library.
What a nice way to start an evening, eh?