Not quite a whole day, but long enough. See title. My butt was starting to wear the cushion down. Knight's Templar was the choice venue and I had an all-day-breakfast at 2pm. Was so hungry, I even ate the tomato. Well, the half of it that was on the plate. There was nothing left to make food faces out of to show the waitress, not even a pea. that was because they didn't serve any peas. David B and Elena had this sinister game of who had points for Deborah saying silly things. Unfortunately, I am sad to say, that I did not disappoint. Elena has even set up a site on Facebook called the Debibo School of Logic, which basically means all the illogical things my brain churns up and my mouth spits out. We watched the football match between Italy and Czech Republic and snippets of the Ghana-USA match on digital TV in the pub. I remember hearing one of the radio deejays mention that there were no good looking Italian footballers this year but personally, a few stood out. We had had a theological conversation earlier and snatches of it were still in my mind which I was mulling over (that's the way I retain stuff - I retain stuff???) when someone on the screen caught my attention. Without thinking (as you do) I blurted, "He looks like Jesus!" He was Italian, chiselled and called Paolo. It wouldn't even have fitted in with Dan Brown's ludicrous claims of Jesus migrating to France, spouting, "Cest la vie."
Even now writing this, a thousand things are running through my head. Wait. Possibly only 5 things. But they're big and current and have future potential for more ponderings. Should I divulge? Hmm, maybe a little. At what cost should my zeal continue? And what should I count as cost in light of the subject of my zeal? I don't want to expose the inner contents of my mind but rhetorically yet personally, if my zeal should consume me, would I have lost sight of the reason for my zeal? I do many things in the heat of the moment. Of them some I feel guilty for but few I regret. Some I realise could have been done better but most times I wouldn't change the situation. I guess it has in part a lot to do with my character of taking things to the extreme. Hot. Cold. Sceptical. Gullible. Loyal to a fault. Hating for almost no reason. The only thing I have in moderation is air. Too much and I'll fall unconscious, too little and I die.