The room was spinning. Spinning.
Where are my legs?
Where are my legs?
Let's backtrack. At maybe 9 pm this past Saturday, I was knee-deep in a mental
checklist for the next morning. It probably wouldn't be responsible of me to bike all the way to Salthill. My body's a little too beaten up to tackle those hills. Surely
someone could give me a lift to church. After posting a Facebook message on the church page to see if anyone might be available, I left the laptop open on my bed.
The Sunday before this past weekend, I’d been in Derry , and the
Sunday before that was the one I wish I could forget. This was the first time in
those two weeks that I was planning how to get to church the next morning.
I padded over to the dresser to plan an outfit – oh, it would be cute if I wore my new leg warmers with those jeans – and draped my choice over the back of my desk chair. This chair is borrowed from
the living room table, because my real desk chair has a loose bit of
plastic that snags my clothes.