Tell Me Why I Don’t Like Sundays

Ah, the eternal promise of Sunday. I wake up early, and feel the anticipation of sleeping in. Even if I can’t sleep, knowing that I don’t have to get up is exhilarating. The promise of doing nothing, or everything is relaxing. But soon the possibilities become decisions, and decisions become problems. Do I sleep in? Do I turn on the TV and waste the next hour or so watching mindless drivel, just because I can? Do I go for a walk? Do I do time on the treadmill? Do I put on an exercise tape? Do I wait? Do I start planning meals? Do I bake banana bread? Do I start homework? Start the endless tyranny of marking? Do I start cleaning? Or, do I just sit back and snooze?

Do I go on Facebook and find put what is new? Do I start my research proposal? Do I start the planning for the week? Do I start on the closet cleaning chore? Do I lay in bed and read a book? The choice are endless.

But I know that soon the day will slip away, as will the promise of time. So I know that soon I will have to make a decision; soon I will have to take action. Soon the morning will be gone, leaving me with a sense of panic over what I still need to do today. But for now, I will still enjoy a few more minutes of anticipation, of knowing that the day stretches ahead of me, seemingly without end. And I am happy. Life is good.

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