It happened. I knew it would someday and that day came yesterday. Twenty years it took and I thought I could ignore it.
Got my tattoo when I was 31. On my arm. Got script. My husband's name. My dad has a tattoo on his arm from when he was in the military which now appears as a complete blob. He was thoroughly unimpressed when I got mine. Can't blame him.
And 20 years later, that calculates out to yesterday, I was asked "What does it say?" You see, it's all blended together now. My holy temple of the Holy Spirit quite desecrated. Many times over desecrated. Thank you, Jesus, for redeeming my pitiful, lost soul.
In other news, I earned over 1k with Zumba last month. Maybe I'll send some to the scammers from Africa. Not. I was so happy to pay my rent out of it. I was really proud. It's not a lot, but I earned it myself.
When I was paying rent for my Zumba space I mentioned that our son is going to private Christian school next school year and she asked me if I'd be interested in working for them. She said they'd be advertising next school year and my being a homeschooler was good experience. Wow. I felt very good that just from talking me as little as she has that she'd like to have me on as an employee. Very nice.
I went to a Catholic church this morning just for the ducks of it. My friend wanted to show me a book they use there. It was good, but not as good as my home church. I felt pent up and I was afraid a little burp might come out of my throat and everyone might hear. They sure have a lot of tradition there all right. Went to my regular church for Sunday night study. Got three nice comments on the length of my hair. I wore it in a side braid. Pastor spoke about end times. Super interesting. I have the best pastor in the entire USA.