Testosterone Kills

I have too much testosterone. Way too much. There has GOT to be a lever or a valve someplace to moderate this stuff.

Yesterday was "drive home day." Yes, I have officially declared northeast Ohio "home." Wasn't hard. The people are wonderful. The community is great. What's not to enjoy? Just get my bride here to my side and all will be well.

OK, I got off track. Where was I?

Oh, yeah. Yesterday I left B-town for the drive back to Sheffield Lake (aka: Cleveland for you Illinois/Missouri/other places readers.) The final tally was 538 miles. This time. Obviously it depends on the route you take and for some reason "Sophie The GPS" chooses a different route everytime I drive it. I'm not sure but I think there are some guys up there on the International Space Station messing with me. I can just hear it now...

"Hey Hank! He's leaving again! Quick, send a signal to Sophie. Tell her that this time we are going by way of Montana!"

"You got it, Bobby! Message sent!"

Maybe I'm paranoid but sometimes she wants me to go through Columbus. Sometimes through Lima. Yesterday she wanted to go northeast from Indianapolis through Toledo. So I just go the way I want and let Sophie fine tune my arrival. I can handle the main parts of the trip. It's navigating those final few miles into the Cleveland area that tends to sink my ship.

The last stop before hitting the highway for real was Qdobe in Edwardsville. A big part of our family was there and we stuffed ourselves on Mexican. I kissed them all goodbye and pointed east-ish. And I decided to just go. Fast. Get there. Fast. No time to be wasted on silly things like food, bathrooms, putting my eyes back into their sockets.

The final results? 538 miles. 8 hours and 18 minutes. My wheels were not turning a total of 16 minutes so I actually did it in 8 hours and 2 minutes drive time. That is 498 minutes. I do not know what that makes my average speed. I do know this.

IT WAS A HORRIBLY STUPID IDEA.

By the time I got home my windshield wipers were waving wildly in front of my face ... and they were not turned on. The "straight line" I walked toward the front door of my apartment building probably appeared like I had been on a cheap drunk. I poured Visine over my entire face.

What is it that makes a typical somewhat normal middle aged American male turn into a total freak job to prove that he can beat his old record at driving from point "A" to point "B?" Nobody was here when I arrived! There was no stop watch to click. I was home and I felt like my eyes were black holes from the deepest parts of outer space.

There has to be a spiritual application here. For the life of me I can't find it. I think I am just confessing stupidity. And actually, that is not unheard of. Tonight at 5:58PM my cell phone rang. I was in the drive through of a local McDonalds waiting for my yummy gourmet cheeseburger. (Gourmet in this case means ... hold the pickle.) I answered to hear the voice of our worship leader, Pam, ask me if I am coming to church tonight. Dumb question. I assured her that I was and the inquired as to why she was asking. That's when she pointed out that the service would begin in two minutes.

Oh.

I don't know why but I thought church starts at 6:30 on Sunday nights! I guess I confused it with Wednesday nights. Orrrr ... since I have been a member of 3 different churches in the last year AND I have recently changed time zones I might just have plain old wore my brain out and goofed up. To make matters worse, as I bolted out of the line (not before I got my cheeseburger) I got within half a mile of church only to get stopped for TEN INCREDIBLY LONG MINUTES by the slowest train ever to be placed on rails. I walked in during the last song before the pastor (aka: me) was to speak. The congregation looked at me politely (sarcastically?) and applauded. Ahhhhh. The warmth of home!

OK, so I guess this is just confession night. Tomorrow morning I will wake up ON TIME and go to the office for staff meeting. I will leave early enough to give myself at least 5 minutes to drive the one mile. I will walk in to no applause. I will sit at my desk and look official. I will say something intelligent. Under no circumstances will I drool.

Tomorrow is Monday. There is absolutely zero chance that I will be able to pull off anything that I told you I would in the previous paragraph.