Tomorrow at 9:00 in the morning, my pastor is coming to pick me up for an overnighter at church. Next year, I’m going to be a youth leader, so this is our big planning meeting.
I haven’t packed yet.
I should probably do that.
Instead, I made cookies.
Then, while those were baking, I got bored, so I made different cookies.
Then, while those were baking, I made a smoothie. It had a mango, frozen strawberries, some shriveled up blueberries that needed to be used up anyway, honey, yogurt, and kale(so that I can still feel like a reasonably healthy person after making two batches of cookies in one night).
Then I read Pride and Prejudice for the 17th time.
Then I did the dishes really loudly.
Then my parents told me to pipe down.
Then I got on the computer.
Then I watched this video.
Then I watched this video.
^I blame my brother for both of those.
Then I wrote this pointless blog post.
Then I said to myself, “Sofia, what are you doing? Why aren’t you packed? If you go on like this, you’re going to oversleep and then Pastor Ming will come and knock on your door at 9:00 in the morning, and you’ll still be in your nightgown.”
Tomorrow, I’m helping out at VBS. The helpers are supposed to wear red T-shirts, shorts, and tennis shoes.
I have a slight problem with that ensemble. I dress like Laura Ingalls Wilder meets Donna Reed meets the Duggars meet Goodwill. I wear dresses and straw hats and bobby socks and penny loafers. Most of you probably don’t even know what bobby socks or penny loafers are.
Tennis shoes: What tennis shoes? You mean those ones at the bottom of the shoe bin that my mother used in 1980-something to play college basketball in? I’m sorry, but no. That will not do.
Shorts: …………………………. no. Against my religious principles to wear anything other than ankle-length dresses. Preferably in dark brown calico. With a petticoat. Not really. Still, NO.
Red T-shirt: Hey! I can do this one. I’ve been to enough churchy events to own a red T-shirt. I even have three! One from a previous VBS, one from the Thirty Hour Famine, and one extremely random one with a Chinese flag on it. That one didn’t actually come from church, believe it or not. The only problem with a T-shirt is that it is virtually impossible to wear gracefully with a dress. Unless it is the dress. But that’s too scandalous for Sofia. Sofia will just have to be a dork. But that’s nothing new.
Okay. I’m going to bed now.
But first I have to pack a bag and brush my teeth and floss my teeth and set two alarm clocks and read another chapter of Pride and Prejudice (Will Lydia behave herself with propriety in Brighton? How can Jane ever be happy again? What will Elizabeth do when she comes unexpectedly face-to-face with the once-so-despised Mr. Darcy? Will Mrs. Collins always be so content with the foolish Mr. Collins?) and write my diary and put my socks away and—