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Why is it that it feels so good to be productive on Sunday? It's Bill's only day off from work and thus our only day to spend together. And yet, whenever we accomplish a good number of tasks or errands, we feel so proud.
Yesterday, for example, we got right up in the morning and made a shopping list (for two weeks' worth of meals) over a light breakfast. Off to the grocery store where we were done in no time -- home even before the CD we left playing for Eliza had finished. Groceries away and a good brunch. Then a run after a suitable digestion period. Home for a shower so Bill can trip off to lab for his laptop and the movie store for evening entertainment. For the afternoon, Bill wrote a bit and I went crazy in the kitchen: 2 soups, egg salad, 4 flavors of smoothies to go in our lunches. And we talked before bed about how productive the day was and how good we felt about that.
In the middle of the week, though, when we're looking forward to the weekend, wishing it was here already, Sunday seems like a day to just laze about. Oh, how good it will feel to just chill out for a day. Stay in PJs all day, cook something that smells good in the kitchen, watch movies, play games, day dream out loud. It seems like heaven. In fact, I do all the housework on Saturday in order to make room for it, to make sure we have no real responsibilities for that one blissful day.
Yet when the day arrives, we can't help ourselves. We feel compelled. Sitting around makes us slightly edgy and errands present themselves in our minds. We go and do. Do.
But now it's Monday and I'm thinking about the next weekend, when we won't have to get out of the house by a certain time and can linger over breakfast. When we can have pancakes! We won't wear contacts but glasses instead, or maybe no glasses at all. Maybe we'll sit in front of the closet and talk about what we want to pack for Europe. And read on the couch with hot tea and hot chocolate, with the dog on her bed next to us. A bath perhaps. And root vegetables roasting in the oven. Yes, certainly, since it seems so very lovely, it will happen next Sunday.
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