A very happy day

Yesterday was my thirty-eighth birthday. I distinctly remember the day I turned nineteen, exactly half my current age. I sat in my dorm room and cried because I was getting old. "Nineteen" seemed so hopelessly grown-up to me, then. As it is, I'm quite happy to be thirty-eight. I've got nothing to complain about, and a lot to be thankful for.

I made it through my first (hopefully not only) time playing keyboard with the band at the new church I've been visiting. I felt good about it, although I'm terribly rusty from disuse. I spoke to the worship leader afterwards; he asked me how I felt about it, and I told him that at the risk of sounding desperate, I'm available whenever and wherever they need me. It just felt so good to be back playing with a band again. These guys are all quite talented, yet all team players, which makes for a very rewarding experience.

Usually I get a chance to get some much-needed sleep catch-up on the weekends; unfortunately, this was not that kind of weekend. I did have a great time, but even though I went to bed at a decent-ish hour last night, I'm still not caught up and I'm going to have to get some sleep tonight. I am so sleepy!