My best friend has a dreadful and inappropriate joke about hell, the pun of which is, "You're gonna' hate Thursdays." This is his stock phrase whenever he knows something is going to be unpleasant. It essentially means, "When things look like they won't be too bad, they get worse."
He went to the dentist last week and discovered he's going to have his gums deep root-scaled. As he shared his impending misery he quipped, "You're gonna' hate Thursdays." When I took on two churches and realized that I'd suddenly be working over full-time when I hadn't planned to go full-time for another 2 years, he said the Thursday remark. And, as is the case, when you hang out with someone long enough, his line is becoming my line.
I am thinking about this line now because I will be going to Las Vegas soon for the National Funeral Director's Convention. I can't wait for the convention. No, really. Check my blogs from last year's convention. I love this convention, but Vegas?
I'm not really a Vegas kind of gal. I don't gamble. I don't wear make-up most of the time. I don't like conspicuous consumption. And the water and electricity waste alone might put me into a funk for years. (I'm still not over a trip to Phoenix at the turn of the milennium.)
I met a man who travels for business at a birthday party a month ago. He talked to me for ten minutes and when I told him I would be going to Vegas he said, "Oh, you're gonna hate Vegas." Uh Oh. Hate it as much as Thursdays?
Why? "You're a Unitarian Universalist minister. You are going to hate Vegas!" Dang.
Well, I leave on Sunday the 7th. I will be posting while there. So you'll be finding out shortly whether I'm in funeral heaven or whether it is Thursday all week. Let's hope that it is better than projected. I mean: me and 1600 funeral directors for three days. How bad could this possibly be?
Besides. I 'll be back home by Thursday.