1.] The feeling of Monday-inevitability. Monday itself isn’t all that bad, but the anticipation is awful.
2.] If you were up late Saturday, Sunday is wasted as a recovery day. You swan around, whinging and eating whatever is leftover from Friday and Saturday. Bleah.
3.] Nothing big ever happens on a Sunday- no premieres, no weddings, no excitement or fun. No one ever says, “I can’t wait to see you on Sunday!” because everyone knows that if you have to much fun on Saturday people will beg off and you’re stuck on your own.
But this morning was different. I woke up at the ungodly late time of 9:48am- my first thought was “How did I do that?” I get up at 6am every day and sleeping in is impossible for me, for some reason. On Saturday I had the alarm set for 7am and woke up at 6:45am, which was odd and awful. This morning I got up late, felt dopey and disoriented, not in the least bit hungry, and the urge to whine was great.
I decided to be proactive: I grabbed a nectarine from the fruit bowl and went for a walk, pausing only to pick up the paper from the bottom of the driveway.
I walked around the block, meeting dogs and their people and generally enjoying a beautiful September morning. This is what summer should be- cool breeze, hot and clear with no humidity, blue sky. Perfection. If I were a cat I would have luxuriated. As it was all I could do was lick nectarine juice off my fingers and grin a lot.
Feeling inspired I sauteed some garden tomatoes and green peppers with scrambled eggs sprinkled with parmesan, toasted bagel on the side and a glass of pulpy orange juice. Then I cranked up NPR and took my food and The Post out into the backyard.
I savored both food and paper until the bugs drove me inside.
The only thing I’d change about today was waking up earlier so that I’d have more morning to enjoy.
I followed up by biking downtown and investigating a bakery I’d heard about- it’s run by an attorney who decided he’d rather bake.
Sundays are my new favorite day.