A Harlem Church

Here's a church on St. Nicholas Avenue and 141st, I think. I can't remember the name of it.

Anyway, I feel bad for not writing all week! I don't know what's been wrong with me. I think I'm stressed out because it's Christmastime. This time of year always stresses me out. I start to resent my job because it prevents me from getting things done like shopping for Christmas presents, sending packages, making elaborate Christmas cards for everyone I know, baking treats to give as gifts, and generally enjoying the season. Or, doing necessary things like buying groceries (I've been living on cheerios) and doing laundry or cleaning my room which looks like a crime scene. And I'm resenting the fact that I spent three hours at Michael's and about 5 hours at the church on Saturday being in charge of an activity that nobody really even came to and which wasn't even all that fun. I know I shouldn't resent things like that, but I could have done so many other more important things. Add to the stress the fact that I waited too long to go water the plant at the Park Avenue apartment that I clean, and it died. So I've been trying to find a replacement, but have had no time, and the people are coming back tomorrow, so I had to just write an email saying how I neglected and killed their plant.

Everything had just combined to the point where I've been walking around like a cat with its ears laid back flat against its head. I don't feel like talking to people or going places where I'm supposed to go. It's not good. People came over last night and I tried to be sociable, but I could only be sarcastic so I had to go hide in my room. Church today was a nice respite--it was good to be reminded of what's really important--but I still left after the first hour because I just couldn't sit still any longer. I wanted to at least be outside walking, but it was a gray and wet day. It poured and poured all afternoon and into the evening, and even with my new rain-boots I got drenched.

When I finally wandered home my roommates had hot eggnog french toast waiting for me, which was delicious with butter and cherry jam, and I felt better with some food in my stomach. Then I cleaned my room, which helped too, because I always feel less cluttered in my mind if my room is not cluttered. Then I talked on the phone to my sister, and then I helped my roommates roll out and bake the gingerbread that we're going to use to make gingerbread houses tomorrow. I had even been stressed out about the gingerbread houses. This morning I was coming up with all sorts of elaborate ideas in my head about how I could make candy-glass windows for the houses, and feeling like I needed to go and buy more candy to decorate the houses with, and the only way I was going to get all this done was by calling out sick from work tomorrow.

But now that my room is clean, I've spent my energy by roaming all over half of Manhattan in the pouring rain, and I've baked gingerbread walls for two potential houses, I've come to the realization that the world will still go on if I don't make the cutest gingerbread house in the world tomorrow night. The world will still go on if I send my Christmas cards out on Wednesday instead of Tuesday, and anyway Christmas isn't about presents and cards and gingerbread and candy, it's about Jesus, and I should stop worrying about everything and just read my scriptures. Because, coincidentally, all the stress and anxiety has coincided with my fall off the daily Book of Mormon reading wagon. My reading this week has been atrocious, and who's to say if its the cause or the result of being stressed out, but I have a feeling that if I just remember to read, I'll feel a lot better.