I want to be fat . . . keep reading. It'll make sense.

Yikes. The last few days have slowly heaped on more bad things for me than I've had in the entire four months I've lived in my beautiful, small town!

First, I was again confronted with my own ugliness and selfishness. Thanksgiving is coming up, and it's a time for family, togetherness, and thankfulness, right? Well, it's also the time that MB gets the most selfish.

Let me explain.

I'm not one to invite people to family functions. I'm just not. I don't know why. I dated someone for six years and never even felt strange about not having him at Thanksgiving or Christmas. Those times are sacred to me somehow, and I just always figured I'd never invite anyone until he was officially part of my family.

Now, for those of you who are open and welcoming and inviting, that's strange. Don't worry. I understand. I've been informed that it's a little closed-off of me.

Well, my sister is one of those open, welcoming, and inviting young ladies, and she rightly wants to welcome her new boyfriend into our celebration. Now, past history aside, I should be fine with that.

Except, this year, the celebration is taking place at my house, making me the final decision-maker. I guess I didn't realize that I'd have to make a decision like that and that it would affect me so deeply.

I discovered that I didn't want him to come. I discovered that I am so selfish about it that I threw a tantrum because of it. Oh, you heard me. A literal tantrum. Crying, whining, accusing others, and saying phrases like "It's just not fair," and "How could you do this to me?"

Yikes.

Double Yikes.

Long story a little longer, I finally decided to let him come. And now I just have to whip my selfish and whiny butt into shape so that he feels welcome.

Second, our boys lost Sub-State last night. That was pretty rough.

Your first year as a teacher, you develop a strong bond with your first "batch" of students. And, naturally, since it's a small school, the majority of the young men are on the football team. And I already love football, so when we say our boys I really men our boys. My boys, even.

My heart just breaks for my senior guys. There's more pressure and history going on this year than most, for the town works in generations. The generation before won State, and now those men's sons are on the football team, and it was their year to win State. It was crushing for them on many levels.

So, I suppose this tough thing is not necessarily my tough thing, but their pain is pretty intense.

And I feel like a momma or a sister bear. My cubs are in pain, and I'm in pain for them.

Third, I got a speeding ticket last night.  Why? Oh, just not paying attention.

Yeah. I think that speaks for itself.

And now, it's all preparing me for this afternoon.

I love weddings, OK? Don't get me wrong. I tear up when almost every bride floats down the aisle. It's the smiles on their faces. You've never seen a woman look more radiant than on her wedding day. Perhaps the moment she gives birth, but more people get the chance to see more weddings than live births, so I figured that was a better event to put in first place.

But this wedding this afternoon will be rough. It will put me to the test. The monolith will be present. It'll be in person monolith time.

And I'm not sure how I'll handle it.

God's been throwing these rough things at me lately, and I think I've figured out why.

It's like I'm a big,juicy steak, ready to be thrown onto the flames. God is the chef. He's an excellent chef. He's tenderized me right up until I'm ready to go on the grill. He's going to do everything right.

But we'll find out if I have the proper marbling to be truly delicious, or if I instead am fat-free and end up tough and chewy. Gross.

Dear Lord, please let me be fat.

Side note: Want to see how it turned out?