Wrap Me Up, Unfold Me

SCANDAL!

Today I did something very un-KaraLynn.
I didn't do something I was expected to do.
I didn't do something other people wanted me to do.
On one hand, I feel guilty.
But on the other, I feel kinda rebellious and relieved (can those two go together?).

Today was just one of those days. The kind where you just feel like crap and don't want to do anything but lie in bed and listen to sad music.
But that's not what I did.
I did everything I was supposed to do today except, I skipped the APNC BBQ.
There, I said it.

Following Youth Worship Band practice (which is another matter entirely), I drove home to pick up the baked beans I was bringing and my mom had amazingly volunteered to make for her busy daughter. Then I set off for Ralph's with every corner of my heart dreading another 2 and a half hours of my time spent under other peoples' expectations and control.
When I was about 3/4 of the way to Ralph's, I decided to re-check the schedule and make sure the dinner hadn't started at 5:30. To my further displeasure, it had started at 5. I was pissed. Just another rotten cherry on my melted ice-cream sundae (the food imagery = I was hungry, duh). So there I am, with like a gallon of baked beans, I am tired, and pissed and altogether ready to throw in the towel on all things WS.
And then, in the form of a mystical chime, I was given an out. Jake texted me, inviting me over for monopoly at 8. I quickly responded I might be able to make it, then typed out my dilemma while turning the corner to Ralph's (driving and texting, something I swore I would never do...). Jake then invited me over "whenever".
That was all I needed. There was no way I could have been pleasant at that dinner. Well, I could have, but it wouldn't've been honest.

Even though I feel guilty about more-or-less purposefully skipping the dinner, I feel even more guilty about the vast quantity of baked beans which now reside in the fridge. I suppose I'll tell madre tomorrow.
As for the rest of the committee, I'll see them in less than twelve hours. I don't know exactly what I'll tell them...

I'm just so spent.
My plate is too full. The baked beans are sloshing out.
I admit it.

Solution: TBD.

Fartin' Barton,
-KL