Made it to the meeting.

.

.

I had it in my phone, but that didn't alert me.  The phone isn't doing what the old old phone did.  Though neither did the "flagship" phone.  Quality has gone down.  Not even sure I should have a cell phone anymore, without the benefits, only only the spying.  I may just dump the phones.

Still, I made it.  Still not totally welcome.  They keep hoping I will die or just stop showing up.  And... I would, if they would simply ask.  That's all it would take.  Other than that, I'll show up.  Do things.  Do what I can, when and how I can.  As I have said, all anyone has to do is ask me to go, or tell me to go.  In an official capacity.  I get it, I understand.  Not a problem.  If you don't have the intention of your conviction, you... shouldn't have that conviction.

I do understand.  But, first they asked me to be there.  For me to go, they have to ask me to go.  No drama, no fuss, just... tell me to go.  But, then don't knock on my door, don't discuss these matters ever again, and make it official.  I don't mind.  I do understand.  Choices.  Make them, or don't.

I need to get in to confession, and back to mass.  Since... things seem to be heading to the point where I am becoming a party to things.  Although... a few things need to be sorted at, and with, the church, too.  If the secretary can choose who is a member, than the priests ought to know.  And, make that an official aspect of the church.  We'll... see if the secretaries run the church, or if the priests do.  That... will decide much.

But, confession.  Then some conversations.  I don't mind.  Choices.

Some crazy event at a place near where I had to drive.  Needed food, too, but that ended up being a mess.  Pushing, all the way around.  But made it, with some food.  Five Brothers, Friends?  Burgers...  No fries, no soda, no sauces... buns, but with just tomato, onion, and lettuce.  Doubles, two.  But... they... weren't good at taking the order.

Still hungry.  And I have meat, just need to heat it up.  Or maybe a tuna or sardine salad?  Hmm, something.  I'm thinking of trying the anchovy salad thing.  Just praying it isn't as salty as the italian versions I have tried.  Those are good in things, to make burger meatier.  And they can be okay, in small amounts, on their own.  But I wouldn't want to eat a whole can of those.  Wouch.  I'd be holding water for the next month.

On to undressing, to cool off a bit. Then on to gaming a bit to chill.  The furnace needs to be cut, a fan turned on upstairs.  I put a wound dressing on my leg tonight.  I jumped in the shower without putting anything over that, and that will make it bleed into my socks.  And rip off when I take those off.  So... a cover dressing.  And, I'll leave that, let the scab work it's way off again, leave it rub under there for a few days.  Then take it off and let it heal up again.  I'm experimenting, to see what might help that wound heal faster.  Constant bandaging doesn't work.  But neither does just leaving it scabbed for a month or longer.  Some mix.

Rough, though.  My arms, hurt.  Muscles, but why?  Neck and back I get, sleeping oddly, off, perhaps too deeply.  But my biceps and triceps shouldn't hurt.

Yes, as with some in the group, some in athletics, some in .mil, there are those who hate me.  Some who are okay with me.  Some who mostly seem to like me.  Yes, and we all know why.  If... I doubt if the haters have half the clue they think.  Then again, any one who is any different, is hated by some.  I get that.  It just doesn't matter to me.  They can ask me to leave, I won't go where I am not welcome.  The odd thing is, they are too cowardly to do so.  Which doesn't make any sense at all.

I'll pray for them, most of all.  But not for my sake.  Just... you don't get to heaven with hate in your heart.  Even if I deserve hate, it's... not for them to grant.  The cost will be theirs.  But... so be it.  Or... as they say elsewise, amen.