I've begun my work week and put Sunday behind me (sort of).  I got up to a profanity laced phone call near 7:15 am and just kind of blinked my way back to reality.  I got into the office and enjoyed reading Cicily's blog and Facebook and smiled because the Bronco's lost (thinking of a lady in our ward who will be miserable because of it--Phil will be okay since His Patriots won!)  I am taking some time to transition from my weekend to a 'normal' work-week.  BUT Sunday continues to be on my mind.  It wasn't a bad day. In fact, it was a good day.  But maybe I have too much time to think on Sundays and when I over-think stuff I tend to come up with unanswerable questions.  I worry about things that I can't really do anything about, and I try to hurry life, which I have learned can not be done.  Life has it's own pace, and resists any and all efforts to make it go faster (or slower, for that matter).  My review of the day reminds me of events of service that I hardly remember, so therefore, don't give much credit to, but DID happen and were good.  I just am not very good about being aware of them (maybe that isn't such a bad thing too!).  One of the things that I over-think is how I fit into our ward family.  Sometimes I do the same thing with our own family.  Am I relevant?  It is hard for me to see the reality of my age and place in a ward of youngsters starting families or raising them like we did, but way in the past, and to see most of them no older then our own children.  I guess that this being 'old' is something I haven't quite grasped yet.  I realize that there are perks, but there is a down side too.  And Sundays just give me too much time to think about it.