A Case of the Sundays

I don't know if this holds true for anyone else, but Sunday is my day.

Saturday is great, but I seem to have a hard time getting anything done. I don't know if I am still recovering from a stressful week or if I just need a day to veg completely.

Saturday usually consists of me in my pajamas from the time I get up until the time I go to bed (if we don't have anything planned for the evening. Then I am forced to take a shower and look presentable!) You can find me in my standard spot on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, TV on to whatever channel strikes my fancy for the moment, with my laptop placed exactly where it's name implies it to be, on my lap.

I will not move for pretty much anything. Well, maybe to use the facilities and to nourish myself, but that's it!

Now Sunday is a different story.

I wake up. The boyfriend does the standard pot-o-coffee. I grab the morning paper and read a few headlines and the comics and then dive into the adds. By the time I am done paging through my favorites and setting aside the grocery coupons, the boyfriend has made some breakfast so we can eat and watch the news or something on the History Channel, Discovery, etc.

I am then ready to conquer the house. I clean and organize and tackle the pile of laundry that usually towers over my head by the end of the week.

Sunday is my reset day.

The house is cleaned, errands are run, laundry is completed, I feel refreshed and energized. Ready to plunge into another work week.

Of course, I still suffer from the standard Sunday night depression. I would venture to say that Sundays are my bipolar day. Highs in the morning, lows at night.

That said, Sunday is probably my favorite day of the week. It's the one day I feel truly productive.