Friday, April 15, 2011

You can’t quit! You’re FIRED!

Dear Brains,

Thank you for your loyal, although somewhat inconsistent service for the past thirty one years. Unfortunately, it has been brought to our attention that while your host was incubating the new people, an oversight at HQ allowed too many neurons to escape leaving you running at less than 25% of your original THINKING capacity. We are sorry to inform you that your services will no longer be necessary since you probably stopped reading this in the first sentence because you saw something shiny.

No further explanation will be given.

Sincerely, ME!

(earlier that day…)

So, it’s Thursday, no big deal, hanging out, dealing with tiny humans and their usual chaos, planning meals, going on a playdate with Lauren… suddenly, I’m running late! I am the single worst gear in the history of human gears! I have agreed to sing for various church functions no less than 6 times since we moved here… and missed every single one.

I’m not very religious. Not because I don’t care, but because I DON’T REMEMBER!

That’s a whole other topic… today I just want to tell you what an idiot I am.

So, I get there, I actually like my outfit, like my song choice, and I’m feeling pretty good that I actually ARRIVED like a real adult should. Hello, hello, opening prayer, walking to the front, reminding myself that I need to explain my song just a little before I spring an old gospel death song on the 30 nice little old ladies. I open my mouth…

… and my brain throws up all the events of my day onto my internal movie screen! And I? Well… I am going to tell you right now, it was the worst choke I have ever had, on any day, in any situation, in my ENTIRE LIFE. And it wasn’t even the singing part. It was the “Hi, my name is Alissa” part!! What the hell is going on here? Wait, don’t think “hell”, this is a church! SAY something! Say what? Say ANYTHING! But I can’t say the words “bluegrass gospel DEATH song” to a room full of old ladies! What if they are aware of their imminent demise? Isn’t that insensitive? What?! What are you talking about?! SAY SOMETHING!

“Snap out of it!” yells my co-sunbeam teacher from the back of the room.

“Oh, gosh! Yeah! Wow! I’m sorry, I just left my son at home having a tantrum and I want to sing you a song…” blah blah, distracted…

Less talking, more singing.

Except, suddenly, I COULDN’T stop talking.

I can’t describe it. I was so freaked out by the inane crap coming out of my mouth, and holy cow! Where is my Mormon vernacular?! Certainly it hasn’t been THAT long since I stepped foot into a Relief Society room? Everything I said, it had the wrong, you know, tempo. And I was supposed to burst into song any second now, but the mood! I’ve messed up the mood! Wait, I can get it back, blah blah blah, ALISSA!! SHUT UP AND SING!

So I did.

The wrong song.

I wish I was kidding.

I had just spent five minutes babbling about how I was going to sing one song, but decided to treat them with another, blah blah, and then broke into the FIRST SONG because I had just been talking about it.

You guys, I have never been more tempted to run out of room in my life, hurl myself into a bathroom stall, and wait until the last janitor switched off the lights so I could sneak out of the building and convert to a new religion simply out of STUPIDITY. 

But I (sort of) quickly recovered, switched it up, and did make it through the right song eventually. I am a professional. There were even a few tears shed, but I think it might have been from the sheer relief that I had stopped making everyone so uncomfortable.

Then I curtsied and ran out of the room.

I really do wish I was kidding.

In the end, I think I redeemed myself a little by only swearing once when I told Jon the story. I probably would have sworn more but my mouth was full of humble pie. And chocolate.

3 comments:

Caroline Kingsley said...

I love you Alissa! I so wish I was there to laugh with, or at you, Haha. Ok, Im guessing it wasn't nearly as bad as you're thinking, and I so miss your beautiful voice! And I'm so happy i'm not the only one who gets caught in moments like this where I swear I don't know what's wrong with me and I just want to run away to a cave. If you find an appropriate one where we can run off happily, or unhappily too, rather, from time to time, let me know. We can commiserate and trade our worst stories around our cave fire.

Erin said...

I'll bet those ladies thought that was the greatest church function ever. Finally, something interesting!

I love that you curtsied.

I also secretly wish that you would have cursed.

Andrea said...

Did you see that news reporter lady that started talking gibberish while reporting on the Grammy's? Just say you had a migraine...
(and if you haven't seen it go google Serene Branson, it will make you feel better.)