An ordinary day

An ordinary day in the life of Sora Heim, in 10 minutes...

The soft faint sound of a fog horn pulls me from pancake skyscrapers dripping with syrup back to the emotionless darkness of my MTC room. So sad dreaming cannot continue forever. The Romanian I heard spoken over the wind fades from memory as I reach to turn off the alarm. It's another day at the MTC, and the mattress creaks as my mind turns to Heavenly Father, "Please, help me to have the spirit, so I may be enlightened and learn Romanian, so that I may teach those prepared for me..."

I can barely make out the shadows of furniture in the room, and I stumble to get dressed and pull on my fivefingers. The door knob's clicking thunders through the room and the hum of the vending machines readily enters. Reaching behind me I stop the door from slamming. The rhythm of the white jumprope is broken by sisters awaking and going into the communal bathroom. Some glance over to look at the soft tapping noise in the whirl of humming money traps.

Quickly, I snatch my soap and towel. "What is taking so long?" My heart rate jumps as more and more people look at my shifty stance wrapped in a dark green towel. Finally! relief as I turn the shower knob. Just time to soap down and I'm out of there. Without looking I reach for a skirt and a shirt. Makeup is so overrated. It will just have to stay where it is. Nametag. Card Key. Room Key. I'm ready.

Breakfast isn't so crowded. But, like usual, when we want to leave the dirty tray line will be stretching across the room. Errands to run, bathroom, we're only a couple minutes late for class. That glare from Fratele Sandberg is unwarranted. What? It's not my fault our schedules don't account for tavel time. Somethings gotta give. Then he just goes off for 40 minutes about what he did yesterday. I wonder if he realizes?

My heart is trying to beat through my chest as I stand facing Sora Lund moments before our teaching appointment. We say a quick prayer, then knock on the door. "Buna Ziua!" some hand shakes, "Ce mai faci?" I can't remember the words. I'm hot. My legs are shaking. My eyes are fixed staring off to the side of his face; I can't look at him. Some 'umms' litter my language. There's a glance toward Sora Lund and she begins talking. "Please, let him understand. Please, open his mind and heart. Let him feel thy love," I plead with God. It's over as soon as it began.

My pencil slowly jots notes about the lesson. Is that what he was saying? Now what? What does he need me to study? Is there even a point to starting? I think the Elders should be done soon. A quick look at my watch tells me it's only been a couple minutes. My head leans against the wall and I give a little whimper. Oh good, Fratele Sandberg is back. The pages scrape along as I flip open to the page in Preach My Gospel. There's some reading and teaching practice in broken Romanian of course, then he leaves. An hour of silence for personal study. I already studied the topics for our next lessons.  I'll just read on my own, woohoo! I hear some zippers and shuffling papers. Oh, it's the Elders. It must be time for lunch. I keep my head down, highlighting, underlining, and cross-referencing. "Are you ready Sora Heim?" "Ya, give me a second." My scriptures snap closed.

Oh look! The cafeteria has all my favorites: hamburgers, potato salad, cheesecake, tostados, and french fries. Maybe I'll get some salad. "Can I have one without meat?" Ew, that chicken looks gross, maybe I can get some soup? Why does everything have meat in it? Seriously, it's still food if there's no meat!!

Time to go to language study. What should I review today. I'll just read my grammar book, or maybe some flash cards.  Oh no! it's time for class. "Sora Lund, can we go to the bathroom?" She's got to hate me. I make her leave every 1-2 hours. There's something wrong with me. My hands are a little wet still, the door swings open and she looks at me, with a face of a thousand emotions, but mostly "can we go now?" The room is brighter since we left. There's Fratele Frandsen, that's why. His return missionary smile is lighting up the room. He's so happy all the time. I hope teaching our investigators doesn't take to long. I want to study some more Romanian.

My legs are fidgetting again. Time has slowed by 1/2. Romanian sounds are slugging through my ears. D-E_A-S-E-M-A-N-I-A. Ehh! Nails on a chalk board. I say the word in my head. De asemenea, no asemenia. Keep at it Elders. I'm not perfect either. I have a long way to go too.

DINNER! I'm not excited. I grab some fruit and carrots. It's gym in 20 minutes. Ugh, I feel like puking. I'm running and running around in a circle, up and down 3 flights of stairs and around again. STOP STARING AT ME! It's gym time. That means I want a work out. Some people's kids.

Shower. Dress. Apple! TALL. The TALL room smells like musk. It's hot.

Sora Lund and I turn to each other and reenact another dogfight. Someone always dies. Sora Heim! Stop getting distracted by the head phones that look like airforce headsets. The native speakers voices hit my tympanic membrances with monotonous tones. I switch to flashcards and listening to Mormon Tabernacle choir. It's sweet to me. I can't stand not listening to music. The Pioneer Day Celebration concert was like drinking water after a lon run. President Monson's Birthday concert is going to be great. Time jumped an hour and a half.

It's time for bed.
Bathroom.
Journal.
Pray.
Sleep.