Sunday, Sunday, Sunday

Today was lovely, relaxing, slow-paced... everything that my days usually AREN'T. The worship band (Romans Road) was given the week off because the children's choir was putting on a big production AND because they were having Baby Dedications, so I didn't have to get up with the chickens. There's something rather luxurious about sleeping until you wake up, don't you think? Doesn't happen often.

I felt very serene all day long. [sigh] Nobody harshed my mellow, not even once. I did have to raise my voice to Martha to get her attention tonight at youth service, but it wasn't because I was upset or angry.

Now I have to finish writing this paper. I'd like to go to bed early, but what'll probably happen is I'll sit here stewing about the paper until 10:30 and THEN I'll go to bed, and the paper still won't be written and I'll have gotten less sleep than I need. heh

Confession time: I spent yesterday evening in the local casino. Before you get freaked out, however, let's just make it clear that I did not gamble; I didn't even drop a single cent there. No, I went to see Red Rock playing in the bar in back. They were in fine form, as usual; I always enjoy listening to them. This time I paid close attention to the steel guitar player, Al, who's simply amazing. Neal was spinning his drumsticks and wisecracking all evening; he came and chatted with me during the breaks, which just thrilled my soul. I have a ton of respect for him as a musician. He's on the schedule to play drums this week at church -- hooray! I think he's glad, too; he says he has missed us.

I have to say, though, that I do NOT enjoy the atmosphere in Prairie Meadows Casino. The incessant droning chime of row after row after row of slot machines is hypnotic for a person like me. I don't feel like I'm even myself when I've been there (this is my second time to go there to see Red Rock) and I find it difficult to concentrate. Even right in front of the band, where the speakers drown out all the ambient slot bells, there's just a thick, oppressive cloud over the whole place, and I'm not just referring to the literal cloud of cigarette smoke. I am not a gambler by nature and it's not even tempting to me to pass by the slots or table games. I don't like beer, so that's not an issue for me either. I'm just, well, in a state of mild subliminal disturbance the entire time I'm in that building. Last night it was worse because Cindy had to work and couldn't go with me. We'd been planning to go see the band this weekend for quite a while, and she was totally bummed that she couldn't go. I still wanted to go see them, but now I wish I hadn't because I just felt so ALONE. If we do decide to go back there, I probably won't go unless she's with me, because I just feel like my common sense, my reality just drains away when I walk through the door.

The TV and radio spots for Prairie Meadows declare happily and cheerfully that Prairie Meadows is "Your favorite place to play." It's decked out in a celebratory, over-the-top gilded and marbled, almost circus-like motif... meant to be inviting and "happy," but it's just not. At least, not for me.

Okay, I've made up my mind. I'm going ahead and going to bed. I'd rather wake up refreshed than sit here in a groggy fog for another hour. G'night, peeps!