Am I Really the Patron Saint Too Much Caffeine after 3 P.M.?

All Saints Day was this past Saturday, November 1^st. As Catholics, we celebrate this day – the day after Halloween. I am convinced a group of really surly nuns got together and picked this day as a holy day, just to agitate all the hung over Catholics.

At any rate, the saints are celebrated. Each saint is a “patron” of something. For example, St. Francis of Assisi is the patron saint of animals, St. Christopher is the patron saint of travelers, and so on it goes.

The interesting stuff is already taken by most of the saints. Unless you are St. Polycarp of Smyrna, patron saint of earaches and dysentery. Sorry buddy.

Wrong kind of saints. Then again….

So what happens if we modernized sainthood to match where we are today as a society? What patron saint would I be?

Here are some thoughts:

Patron Saint of Why did I walk into this room? I am nowhere near the age of ninety-seven, but I have been super forgetful lately. To the point of embarrassment. I can’t remember names for the life of me. The other day I looked over at the person sitting next to me and said, “I’m sorry, remind me of your name.” He replied, “Your husband.”
Patron Saint of I can wear this sock with a hole in the toe, and oh no, now we are doing this “team building” exercise at work without shoes. If there is one thing I can’t stand buying, it’s socks. I will put on a sock with a hole in the big toe and in the heel, think about throwing it away, then wear it, wash it, and fold it away in my drawer. Repeat in two days.
Patron Saint of Drive-By Liking on Facebook. Oh come on, you do it too. Then you see those posts that ask you to comment and cut and paste into your newsfeed, that way people will know you are really friends. Guilt, guilt, guilt. Oh wait – did a Catholic saint come up with this post?
Patron Saint of Saying, “Yes, of course I will help you with blah, blah, blah.” Then kicking yourself in your holy ass. If you have school-age children, you get this. Just one more volunteer assignment at the carnival. Just one more help the teacher cut out 908 snowmen for the holiday party. This patronage can happen at any age. My mother sits on so many philanthropy boards, I’m getting her a doughnut for Christmas.
Patron Saint of I’m pretending to be asleep so you will get up and let the dog out. This applies to any situation you want to avoid. Pretending to be on the phone to avoid talking to someone you know. Pretending you don’t see a car waiting to pull into a parking spot. Pretending you just didn’t get that notice about your turn to bring the gluten-free snacks to the Brownie meeting [see #3 above].
Patron Saint of I have not downloaded my photos from my IPhone, and now I can’t take anymore pictures. I think I still have photos in my phone from when my daughter was three. She is eight now. I. Never. Download. Photos. Ever. Instead, every time I need to take a picture, I play a little Russian Roulette called, “Wonder which photo is going to be deleted from my life?” Huge ice cream sundae eating photo, or dog making hilarious face photo? The possibilities are endless. I lead a very exciting life.

I also never update my phone and other tales from my wild life.

Most likely, I will not be canonized [stop laughing]. Not even close. Luckily, I’m not bucking for sainthood, just paying homage to the things that fill my life – and most likely, the lives of others.

Plus, it really beats being burned at the stake, getting your eyeballs gouged out, or stoned to death.