This one time at Catholic church.....

So I don't know if you guys know this about me....but one time, I used to go to church.  I'm talking the Catholic church!  I'd go once a week, sometimes twice and spend anywhere from two to four hours there....in the hall, church and the fathers house.  Now I know it's early, and I'm sure lots of you have headed to get more coffee because you're pretty sure you aren't reading this right, thinking what the H E double hockey sticks is Shannon Koochin doing at church!?!?  So let me finish my story....I used to clean the church, hall and fathers house....OH and his motor home but that's another story.  When Gavin was a year old or so I did a stint as a cleaning lady.  I didn't mind the job....it was quiet, nobody bugged me and I could just crank my tunes and go.  I also didn't mind cleaning the hall at the church, or even the fathers house.....all tho.....I used to have to change his bedding and do the shower, and he was as bald as a cue ball and whenever I'd see like a hair I'd instantly think ungodly thoughts as to where they might have come from and yes I know I'm going straight to hell and really can't believe I just shared that with all of you.  I'm sorry I'm a horrible person and please pray for my children.  Anyways......out of the gutter Shannon for petes sake.......really the safest thing would be to just sign off and stop writing now, but we all know me!  I'll just plow on and see how many more times I can sound like a moron!  Okay and here we go!!  So back to the random hairs...NO WAIT.....I mean, back to the CLEANING.......yes, cleaning....I used to clean all sorts of strange areas at the church....including this scary basement area that kind of connected the church with the fathers place....and always had bugs and strange rooms all painted different shades of bright ugly colors.  But I didn't even mind the basement....what REALLY creeped me out was cleaning in the actual church.  I get the heeeeebie jeeeeeebies just walking in there, never mind the fact that I was alone.  There was a few back rooms and some strange areas....I used to actually like cleaning in the confessional booths, always muttering my worst things under my breath pretending I was confessing, but really if there was another person on the other side they would have probably put me in a straight jacket and sent me off, or called my mother to beat me with a wooden spoon.  Cleaning in the main open area, around all the pews was the scariest for me.....especially having to get up on the podium at the front to vacuum while statues of Jesus and others would stare at me.....and I could tell they were all judging me and my relationship with Kevan and our bastard child.  I'd make up little conversations in my mind with them and for some reason my inner Jesus voice always sounded like he was right from Monty Python.  I'd have to run this big ol vacuum cleaner in that quiet cave of a place and it would echo off the vaulted ceiling and stained glass and make it even spookier then it was.  So this one time, I was in there vacuuming and it was a pain in the ass because I'd have to unplug the vacuum like 912374 times to get around all the pews and replug it in and I swear that took longer then the actual job.  So I'm muttering to myself, and go to plug the vacuum in again and ZZZAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPP EXPLOSION!!!!!!!!!!!!  I'm super confused and can't figure out why I'm laying down all of a sudden and I can smell burning.  I come to my senses and realize I'm laying about 2 feet away from the wall socket with the plug to the vacuum still in my hand and my hand is burning and there's black smoke all up the wall around the outlet and I vaguely remember seeing blue flames.  Awesome.  I was just electrocuted.  IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.  All of this took just a second and while I'm still stunned I see the Father come in cause he heard a loud explosion noise and he sees me and realizes what's happened and I must have looked totally surprised and he starts to laugh.....and laugh......and laugh!!  Now, anybody who knew him knows he was a pretty funny guy.  I actually really liked him....he used to love to tell me religious jokes....and then he'd laugh at the fact that I wouldn't understand the punch lines.....like I'm talking laugh until tears came rolling down his face and he was gasping for air.  Anyways, that's pretty much what he looked like as I lay on the floor of the church, still vibrating with electric currants.....he doubled over and grabbed his belly and between laughing bouts manages to get out "GIRL!  You need to find some faith!!!" and I yeah yeah yeah and tell him I'm going to the hospital to have my hand looked at and stomp out of there.  But as I leave....and the sun is shining and I realize I'm done work early for the day and don't have to vacuum in that place that makes me so uncomfortable it's kind of like the right thing to have happened.  And I know the Catholic Church isn't a place for me!  And for those who have been attending safely without getting electrocuted, it's probably the perfect place for you and just stay away from the one outlet on the far right wall with the black soot stains around it.