The talk brought on the tickle?

Woke up with a little tickle in my throat.

Went to church.

Came home and took a nap.

Woke up in a panic around 1600, remembering that Wry-an was going to call. Sure enough, there was a message. Called, updated, planned. Haven't talked on the phone like this in ages. Hung up, tickle slightly aggravated. But excited about going to visit him and Georgia Peach in September.

(Also of note: Stake Counsellor #2 was in our ward today. A day which was like a three hour long eulogy to a former stake president and his family who were moving away. Almost felt like those orchestrated missionary farewells that we aren't supposed to have anymore. Anyway, saw Stake Counsellor #2 in the hallway between meetings. And on the fly, I sweetly stated that he had never called me back a few months ago when he had again requested my phone number, in order to talk about a mid-singles magnet ward. He seemed a little embarrassed, and muttered something inconsequential. To which I (sweetly) replied that I'm learning to be patient. Later on, I found out that Improv-er (one of those "key" mid-singles that they were trying to convince about the magnet ward) had been called to be a counsellor in his ward bishopric. I don't know whether to be happy or dismal. Either they're grooming him to be a bishopric member in a (far-off) future magnet ward, or they've ditched the idea completely. Deciding now that I'm just going to make my own events to meet and make friends, and not rely on church leaders. Being patient in this area is serving no one's needs.)