I walked to the Temple this morning. (Well, it wasn't really morning, but it was right after I got up, so that's close enough.) On my way up, passing the MTC, my mind was wandering through life two years ago, when I was there. The differences between mission life and regular life are surprising. In the MTC, we had relatively little to obsess over, so we obsessed over stuff like soccer and Chilean words. I won't say it was a perfect experience, because it definitely wasn't--I had my own issues to work through, which I didn't do until more than a year into my mission--but I enjoyed it and I wish I could go back.
Suddenly, I had a strong sense of panic, and I realized I'd forgotten something important. I looked at my left shoulder, and my nametag was missing.
...I don't need a nametag. I don't even have one in Provo. I got released as a missionary more than three months ago.
*sigh*
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