Being a ‘recovering Catholic’ has it trying moments. For instance, you never know when all the dogma and ritual are going to come back and hit you square between the subconscious eyes. Like last night for instance.

I found myself quite innocently enough gathered with several of my old childhood friends (or course if this were not the internet and we were all just conversing, I would tell you their names… because whenever one talks of childhood friends one MUST use both first AND last name…go on…think of one…you have to say both names…don’t you? …Anyway, in this format I feel that would be inappropriate to do so… however….I digress).

We were all together attending a Catholic mass. It was a large and regal cathedral with that sort of reverent stadium style seating, where all eyes can be fixed forward on the numinous mysteries of the moment. Anyway, when it came time for communion we all made our way toward the altar. My group just happened to be in the very last row, where obviously the stragglers were wont to be. Now this cathedral was the old school sort (none of that Post Vatican II liberalism here) where they still had kneelers and the congregation took to their patellas post-haste after receiving the Eucharist.

Just as I arrived near the Priest who was devotedly administering the body of Christ to the throng of the pious, my closest colleague in crime startled me with some sort of tom-foolery and I quickly took the bait, lunging at her only to find that my arm sprung out from my body in a maneuver that would have left Wilt Chamberlain awed and gaping. I miraculously dislodged the minute God-wafer as it passed from the hand of the Priest and hovered over the ready and repentant sinner mouth. After brief contact with my hand the wafer flew in an ignoble arch across the length of the apse as EVERY prayerful eye focused keenly on its flight. It came to rest at the far edge of the alter and the only person with even the slightest bit of composure remaining was the Priest whose hand I jostled. Without hesitation he leaned forward and in a deep, dignified voice offered to me a new host, the transubstantiated body of God. And it was at this very moment that I noticed the fallen book of psalms at my feet and ducked forward to retrieve it, thereby completely denying/rejecting the Priest’s offer. The understandably stunned eyes of the congregation looked with abject horror as I slowly rose and made my way dejectedly toward the nave.

Wait …it gets better. After the service ended I found that one of the primary ‘players’ in my current work environment was in attendance at this mass. It ended with me being mercilessly upbraided and my professional competency/loyalty being questioned. I was horrified and searched my brain to find a way to remedy the situation; any sort of plausible explanation for my unexplainable behavior.

I awoke this morning a bit ill at ease and resisting the thought of getting ready for work until suddenly it dawned on me that it had all been, thankfully, a dream.

Overall I ended up having a very good day at work! And no one even mentioned my small indiscretion or even cast a wayward eye in my direction.

Ok, all you armchair Freuds* should consider this your Heyday because if you can’t make something good out of this scenario then go back 10 spaces and resign yourself to a life of Phrenology, because you are not ready for the ‘Big Leagues’.

*Disclaimer: scientologists need not apply

Shameless self kudos for the “Singing Nun” reference in the title