Pink Eye Sunday

No, it's not some new or neglected liturgical holiday you've missed.  It has nothing to do with the 3rd Sunday of Advent, where the wreath traditionally has a pink candle.  No, it's how I spent yesterday, at home, trying not to infect people with my conjunctivitis.

Now, I know that I likely wouldn't have infected anyone, as long as I didn't let them get close.  It's passed through the tears, mucous, and other crud coming from the infected tissue.  It's not like I had TB, which as an airborne disease, would have put the whole congregation at risk.  But I also know how scared people get when they know someone has pink eye.

And so, I stayed home and sent my spouse off to service.  I got some writing projects finished.  I got some decorating done.  I felt lonely.

I love the Advent season, and I've now missed half of it.  Sigh.

But I'm on the mend, and my eyes look better this morning.  My ferocious cold, which knocked me low last week, seems to be receding.  Maybe I can still get my Advent back on track.