It’s 48 hours before I arrive in Tampa and I am already worried. My wife says I worry too much but that’s just how I am. I worry about worrying.
So today I am worried that Alan Morrison or Gere Reist or someone important will discover that the Richmond Braves are now defunct and the powers that be will move everything to Richmond at the very last minute. (Of course that would save air fare.)
Worriedthat I will run out of steam in week 2 because I haven’t really “gotten in shape before Tampa” like I promised in my New Year’s Resolution.
Worriedthat I will forget to pack something important like sunscreen, or Valium, or Gas-X.
Worriedabout how I will spend the $10 in “entertainment money” I get from the church, and about whether or not I’ll get in trouble if I combine that with the $10 I get in “laundry money” and just walk around smelly during tte second week.
Worriedabout the sanity of my friends in Tampa who sold theirbeautifulsailboat just before General Conference.Really? You’re killing me.
Worriedabout the proximity of the Convention Center to the water of Tampa Bay and whether or not someone might get tossed in during a heated committee debate. Do we have rescue crews in place? The Coast Guard? Highly trained divers?
Worried about what will be done, and not done, about what will be said, and not said, about what is decided, and what is left until four years down the road to Portland.
Portland? Gee, that will be a long flight… And I’ve heard it rains all the time…