This morning was the usual hectic get-ready-for-church scramble.We arrived late, due to my hair being stupid, but were relieved to see that there were still (miraculously) parking spaces available. We chalked this down to everyone being on summer vacation. We quickly walked in, smiled at the elderly couple in the back row who were smiling at us (I inwardly laughed at their assumption that we must be visitors--just because I haven't been there in a month! Ha!), then took our hard, cold folding chair seats and looked around.
Not a single, solitary recognizable face.
"Did our ward change times?" I whispered, getting suspicious when I didn't see anyone I knew, then a little frantic when none of the bishopric looked familiar.
After a couple more minutes of confusion, we remembered one crucial point: our ward meets at eleven. Not ten, like it was in Canada. Eleven. We tried to keep our snickers in as we exited the chapel to the tune of the sacrament hymn, approximately two minutes after our entrance.
I'm not the only one who's brain has stayed in vacation mode, has it? This has happened to you guys, right?
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