I have a very specific distaste for Sundays. Something about them has always stressed me out, it’s the day I’m most likely to feel depressed (especially during the winter), regardless of what days I was working, what’s planned for the week, etc. It doesn’t help at all that the temperature outside is dropping again, with the wind blowing garbage on and off my terrace. This is my official Sunday song:
Oh Aretha, her voice makes my heart weep. Very unfortunate that my rendition makes everyone else’s ears weep.
Not a terrible day today, as Sundays go. If I ignore the fact that it’s been a full week since I had a reasonable and uninterrupted night’s sleep. I got a positive critique for the short story I worked on last week. Man Child helped me do the shopping before he leaves for school this evening. And yes, now he’s totally back to school, not popping in and out during his internship. The week’s gumbo is made for the dogs, Flower Child and I have at least four days worth of clean underwear, and it’s a four day weekend for FC.
I did some writing this morning, not enough, but some, back to the WIP. Whenever I have to close the file, stopping earlier than I want to, I always swear I’m going to write again later in the afternoon or evening, but it just doesn’t happen. Lose my focus, lose my energy.
So what do you do on your blah days, when you can’t just go back to bed, but also can’t be productive in the way you’d like?
Flower Child is feeling a little better, able to eat a bit again, so I made cookies. Now someone tell me how to avoid going into the kitchen until tomorrow, so I don’t have to see the pot from the gumbo and the bowls from making the cookies.
Here, have a snickerdoodle, it will help you think.