the sunday-ers

I have a love/hate relationship with Sunday.

I love it because, well, how can you not?  Sunday is a glorious day of rest to catch up with friends and family.  Sunday is a beautiful day when you are free to do what really matters.  Reading, drinking coffee, taking a walk, cooking; you can do it all.

Or maybe not.

Unfortunately, I find Sunday to be an odd day.  I want to impose a ban of work to refresh for Monday, but that makes me feel restless.  I want to do work to prepare for the week ahead, but that makes me feel overwhelmed.

A Sunday spent sat in front of the computer, no matter where, doesn’t fit my idyllic image.

Then there are issues with Sunday evening.  I have heard that some people enjoy spending those few fleeting hours in pure relaxation—or as Elaine says decompressing—but by that time in the week I’m never in the ideal state to rest.  I want to spend the evening watching television or reading, but my anticipation for Monday always seems to win.

Sunday looks better viewed from the outside.  Trust me.  Take a walk on any random Sunday and you’ll see them, the sunday-ers.  The people who appear to have their weekend routine down to a science.  Perhaps they are queueing up for a long and leisurely brunch or taking a calming walk.  They may be having a picnic in the park or they be out doing a spot of shopping.  Even some people manage to make their grocery shopping seem like an excellent Sunday activity.

I’m not a Sunday-er.  Or maybe I am.

Maybe the people who see me taking a long walk on Sunday morning, sitting down, eating a croissant, drinking some coffee and reading my book think I am one of those people who live for Sundays.  If you see me and think that, trust me:  I don’t have the perfect Sunday.

The weekend feels as if it should be perfect. Thus, it can never be.  Focusing on the perfect Sunday—and the perfect Sunday we think we see others enjoying—is the perfect way to decimate this sacred day.

Take, for example, the person who was sitting next to me when I got a leisurely coffee at Kaffe 1668 a couple of Sundays ago.  There they were, sitting down with their newspaper spread out all over the table.  Next to them lay their coffee and iphone.  They had just eaten breakfast.

When I see this, I imagine them getting texts from their friends.  One of them may ask for the person to head over to their apartment to help them hang up the photo they bought yesterday.  Or maybe they’ll be going over to a friend’s house for dinner.  They may also be planning to spend the afternoon going to the movies.  They could be doing anything.  Or not.

Maybe Sunday isn’t perfect.  Maybe nobody is a Sunday-er.  Either way, that’s okay.  My dreams of that idyllic Sunday drive me to make the best Sunday for myself.  And, you know what, it’s usually pretty awesome.

But I’m glad today is Monday.

Do you consider yourself a Sunday-er?  What do you need to have the perfect Sunday?


One thought on “the sunday-ers

  1. Pingback: One of the Special: Boston Tea Party’s Croissant « emilialiveslife

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