Of Trucks and Sabbaths

Moving. Ugh. In 99 degree heat. Ugh-er. With little help. Ugh-est.

Although to be fair, having little help is my own fault.

Here's how my sunday went. I got a uhaul. Finally. I know, I know, sabbath day and heavy labor and spending money, all that makes me a sinner. But my "ox was in the mire", to coin a phrase. I had one day to get my big furniture stuff into the new place before I had to spend another week slleeping in someone else's basement, and I just can't do that anymore. I have already asked for too much help with this move, mooched off of too many peopple, and I have so little self-respect left. SO I rented a uhaul. On a whim, I upgraded to a bigger size truck, which turned out to be a good thing for me. Have you ever rented one? It's interesting to drive a truck for a day. I don't reccommend it. For starters, when I got to my Aunt and Uncles house, where I was storing my furniture, I tried to put the truck in park, it ended up in neutral, rooled into a tree in their yard and took off a large branch. How embarassing. Then I ran up to their door to let them know I would be grabbing my stuff, and accidentally interruppted bishopric meeting. How mortifying. THey jumped up and started carrying my furniture for me, suits and all, and I found that I had way more stuff than I thought I did. Luckily it only took about 10 minutes. I still owe them several batches of cookies. Then I drove back to my new place and loaded the stuff into what will become my bedroom (tonight!). There, I found the girl who will be my new roommie, and she helped me lift the big heavy mattress. I had intended to just do this all on my own, I hate asking for help. I don't just hate asking for help, I hate letting people who have offered to help lend a hand. I don't know why, but somewhere my self-worth got linked to my independance, and getting or allowing help is just not within my ability. Except when absolutely necessary, I have managed to ask my parents. See, now there is proof that I love them, that they are the only people I have ever managed to ask for help from. (Well, a few of my choice buddies from northern Utah as well.) At any rate, you can be guaranteed that if I ever even allow you to help me, then you must be in the top 15 people I love.

So back to the day....
We unloaded the uhaul, and I had it returned 3 hours after I got it. Not bad, actually. They guy at the counter wanted to know how I managed to go 106 miles in that little amount of time. Not only was it unloaded and returned by 1:05, but since my new ward starts at 1, I had time to get to church. I thought I would just miss the first bit of meetings in order to get there and to change into a skirt. When I arrived, there was no sacrament meeting going on. I was very confused, so I asked a random guy in the clerks office about it. For my non-lds buddies, you should know that most Mormon chapels have the same layout, so wherever you go in the world, you can find a chapel, walkk in, and know where every meeting and office and classroom is. So I asked a random person, and they began to explain to me a strange thing. My ward did not have it's regular meetings this week. Remember how I said I had 4 choices as far as wards go? I was wrong. I have no less than 9. Possibly more. Some speak tongan and saomoan, so those are out, and some are university marrieds, so they are out too. But one is the family ward, one is the student ward, and then there is something called "H-4". The "Holladay four" is a group of over 800 singles, mainly professionals, divided into four wards that have group activities, FHE groups, and meet together for their 3 hour block once a month. I happened in on that day, so I missed their meetings. I am intrigued, though. With 800 people, the cliques are a little more open, the gossip a little less pointed, the attitude a little more broad, and the atomosphere a little more refreshing. As I chatted with say random male, and met several people still hanging around the building, I never once felt evaluated, looked up and down like rancid meat, or even flirted with. I was treated as a normal individual, who just wanted to go to church. YAY ME! So I am going to give the singles ward thing a try here, perhaps even a month or two, before I get irritated and head to the family ward.

I still made it to a random sacrament meeting to complete my sunday. And I slept well last night even on a bean-bag chair!