Storytime, but no plot

Once upon a time there was a magda. She liked to do many things.

She liked to go to the gym and work out and feel stronger and stronger, and to read books while there, and feel her arm muscles.

She liked to go to the library and get heavy stacks of lovely things to read.

She liked to go to the family reunion in Dallas and see her niece and nephews and cousins, and volunteer to distribute the family trees and photos so that people could get what they wanted.

She liked to see a picture of a very cute little boy dressed as a deacon.

She liked to go to two chant rehearsals and feel all goldeny and be impatient for Pascha (though not Lent, as Fr. Seraphim pointed out).

She liked to go to band practice and feel useful even if she was one of four (the only woodwind and in the front row all alone) and even if she found out that she needed work now that everyone could hear her even more and even if they all laughed at the idea that she would blow her teeth out if she tried to be any louder.

She liked to pretend to be a writer and write a little story about a little girl named Theodora whom Laura has heard of, even though the story isn't getting written down for nanowrimo as quickly as it needs to be, because it's difficult to write a story when you don't know what the plot is, and realize that writing fiction is harder than you thought by more powers than you have fingers.

She liked to read the Bible passages for the day at the very end of the day from the Bible that her father had given her which they used to read out of when she was very small.

She liked to make lists of things which needed to be done in the evening, and things which she would like to do in the evening, and be okay with not getting even half of the things done on the list.

She liked to feel clever at thinking of taping a piece of paper on the clear door so that the sun wouldn't get in her eyes at the end of the day.

She did not like to go to work and get a cut while driving to get lunch for a meeting on such short notice, and she did not like to be the receptionist with the phone ringing every minute, and she did not like to bribe with more candy ask the Fedex girl to wait while she did up two packages which had just been handed to her.

She did not like leaving things undone, like typing out theological lectures, and scanning and uploading photos, and writing for nanowrimo, and replying to letters and emails.

Best of all, she liked to cuddle up with her husband at night and know that she was one day closer to the weekend, where she knew she would have chocolate-chip pancakes, and dreamed she might have time, in a single day, to do all the things she liked to do.

So that's where she's been all this time, in case anyone was wondering.

However, if the hectic work-day continues to be this stressful, she will need to apologize to her neighbors after playing music somewhat loudly for a while, like the Skalcoholiks, Rachmaninov, Altan, Yngwie Malmsteen, and Christopher Parkening.

N.B. When the magda gets stressed out and has a long and crazy day, she talks in third person.