Which is worse: when I don't know what's wrong with me, or when I have a pretty good idea exactly what's wrong with me? Somehow, I'm still loved.
Last night's meeting culminated just as I expected: a proposed rent increase from the church building we rent. It's only 10%, the first in two years, but I still dug in my heels a bit. Our finances are tight and sometimes good negotiation calls for that kind of maneuvering. This battle will ultimately be conceded, I'm sure, but it might hold off the next increase a bit. And we're still blessed by the relationship we have with their church— I'd like to foster that a bit more, both for fellowship's sake and to further shore up our defenses against additional hikes.
My before-this-entry Yahtzee score, the hard way:
I'm not making these up, you know.
Tea soon, I think.