Sunday Nights

I wake up most Sunday mornings with a slight dread. Tomorrow's Monday, and I despise Mondays. I've been feeling especially lazy lately and every work day feels like a Monday! Still, I'm usually able to put aside those feelings for most of the day.

Then it kicks in around dinner time, when the weekend starts to trail off and suddenly becomes "Preptime for the Week." I start to groan about my to-do list (make that last WomenAid deposit! Clean the inside windshield of the car already!!) and dread going to work the next day. The phone calls. The walk-ins. Not having enough time to do everything I'm supposed to do, not being able to hide where no one can find me. (Everyone ALWAYS knows where to find me!) This usually turns me into a bumble, trying to pick up the house, fold all the forgotten laundry, give Will his bath and his "bedtime cookie." Then, even while relaxing, even in my slumber on Sunday nights...it continues to nag.

Not tonight. I am putting my foot down. Outside it is blissfully cool and the scent of rain and earth are in the air. It's perfume is intoxicating, and I will sit by the window, passing the time by knitting the handles on my tote bag and chatting with my husband. Not about the week ahead, but about the Stanley Cup or Adam Pascal indeed singing in the Backyardigans "Knights" movie tonight. This is a night for serenity and relaxation, and I aspire to break through the waters of Monday a better person for it.