wooden shoes and windmills

The job hunt marches on. Come next week I may be working part-time at my church. I'm still fairly undecided about that particular decision. I'm actually trying to avoid heading back to Starbucks for fear of getting stuck in the world of retail coffee sales.

Meanwhile, I'm singin' in the choir. My father (the choir director) coerced me into singing in the Easter musical the choir is preparing so, tonight, I sat through two hours of a church choir practice. It brought back odd, humerous memories of other times I've sung with this choir. Many of the ladies in the soprano section have been sitting there for years. This evening I sat next to a particularly plucky "lifer" who shook her head madly anytime one of her section sang a wrong note or rhythm. Oddly, when we broke into sections and she was tasked with plunking out the soprano line on the piano she plowed through the music with little regard to any rhythm at all.

"She's just playing notes right now," another cheerful soprano explained to me when, I suppose, she saw the confused (read: "lost") expression on my face.

It's not so bad, though. I'm excited to be singing in a group again and the musical seems like it'll be nice. Plus, the people in the choir really are lovely.