Midday fantasies

There is a room in the building where I work that sends my heart a flutter. Unfortunately, I can not get in it. Maybe that's why I desire it, because it is unavailable. It is a reading room that is almost always locked. The door has a little window that allows me to peak in and wax on what could be a moment of unbridled reading ah.
There is a soft red couch and two comfy looking stuffed chairs in a room lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves that are at least 15 feet high. Long tall windows bring in natural light and cork floor tiles give it a warmth. My fantasies of this room involve me, a good book, and falling asleep reading that good book in one of the chairs that just whisper 'sit on me'.
Since I'm in the land of fantasy, I'll throw in a butler. The room just screams Jeeves! So, I, good book, comfy chair, and a man in smart attire with a tray of a full tea service waiting on me.
Then I realize that I've been peaking in a room where I have no authorization and at any moment another staffer is going to walk by and might actually say something, so the fantasy ends.
At home I'm trying to get close to the fantasy. The coffers are a little empty so the bookshelves are from IKEA, as is the couch, and I'm going to loose the chauffeur to marriage and he never did butler work. Can't afford a butler no how.

I am the Queen of difficult diners

A review is in. And the main diner who concerned me, did not get sick. Yay! Actually she sent me a very nice email thanking me for dinner and remarking that she could not remember the last time she was eating the same thing everyone else ate.
Once I found a recipe (thank you o great internets) for the main course that was limited to the limited list of approved foods, I was good. The dessert was the result of an experiment I did a week earlier, looking to see what happens when you do certain things to fruit. I'm sad gelatin was off the list there are things I could have done with fruit juices and fruit. No matter. She liked it and since Roland commented here recently, I'll take it that the food didn't kill him either.

Heps, who did steps, aren't stepping anymore they're doing choreography

Choreography.
That's the word that stays in my head when a long while ago Roland got a bunch of folks from the CotRRBP and the CotGL (both Episcopal) to attend... you know I don't have an alternative name for Holy Cross (Orthodox). Anyway, Ronald briefly explained the choreography so that we wouldn't get hit by a hot thurible.
There is a fair amount of optional choreography in worship. Of course, this does not trump music that is in common with the various traditions I run into as I dance along the theological fence. But I do wonder why does one bend the knee at this point of the Nicene Creed and why genuflect at various points, or bow at others? I'm really wondering now that I've just noticed, yes, just noticed that there are no crucifixes (savior on a stick) in the procession nor anywhere to be seen. Where the &%$!@ is my Lord dying for my salvation! What I thought was the crucifix was actually a really ornate cross. I thought I was bowing before the reminder of the sacrifice and symbol of G-d's love. Beh.

I'm not going to church today

Woke up feeling not so great with the tummy, but now I've eaten and feel a tad bit better, but still not feeling like getting dressed & biking to G'town. Besides I did drag myself to Mass at Our Lady of Perpetual Suffering yesterday. If I just got the converting to Catholicism over with, my weekends would be so much more simpler.
Also this week I'm going to an Orthodox Church with Dr. So N Soh (Roland), so just not feeling the deep need to go to the Church of the Really, Really Blond People today. And today would be the screamy baby service. Nope. Not going. Yes, there is the 5pm service but I'm guessing my natural laziness will kick in and keep me home.

Crap like this makes you paranoid

There is a person. I'm going to leave off the discriptions but anyway, this person I swear has it in for me as this person has been passive-agressive hostile to me. I am passive-aggressive so it takes one to know one.
I have been informed by said person to clean a common area. The area isn't that dirty in my eyes, and the person who makes the most, if nominal, mess, I doubt will be asked to do the same. And this is not the only thing this person has done to me, so it is not an isolated incident.
I agreed to help clean it but I didn't say how often and right now I'm thinking of boycotting it. I can't today because I haven't prepared to be self-sufficent. But starting Monday, I'm going to become an island.