three paragraphs on sundays

Sundays are an interesting day. Morning starts off wonderfully, like walking around a bend in a trail to behold a beautiful mountain lake. Leisurely brunches are enjoyed at home or in restaurants, with or without cocktails but always with coffee. The New York Times sitting on the kitchen is photographed to prove to our Instagram followers that we are REALLY enjoying our leisurely Sunday. How else do we inform people that we are cultured enough to be able to take time off from our busy lives to non-ironically leisurely read the print version of a newspaper? 

The morning turns into midday and we realize that we can no longer relax because we have things to do. So we head off to Lowe's/Target/Bed Bath and Beyond/Trader Joe's. Or, if it's football season, we stay relaxed on the couch and watch the NFL games. In the fall, errands can wait. Plans are tough to make on Sunday afternoons because we are too close to the work week to really be able to cut loose, yet we have enough free time to do something fun. Most people want to stay around the house or run errands, lest they get sucked into a social situation that extends into Sunday evening.

​Sunday evenings are a sad resignation. We are resigned to the weekend being over and another week beginning. We are resigned to the fact that any fun we have on Sunday evening will be negated by the exhaustion of Monday morning. The gut punch of waking up tired and exhausted on Monday morning has many similarities to the feeling of losing the Super Bowl because your team decided to pass on the 1-yard line instead of handing it off to the best running back in the league. Monday morning exhaustion creates bad memories. But some of the best memories are created on Sunday nights. That's why Sunday nights are either all in or all out. There is no somewhat fun Sunday night.