Today is a lazy Sunday. If I can manage to get off of the couch, I might go to the Goodwill to do some rummaging…or maybe go to the grocery store. If I’m feeling particularly adventurous, I might even stop by the bar to have a beer with friends…but that’s a long shot.
Growing up, Sundays seemed to always be about having to be somewhere…church was a requirement, and there were often family visits to be made. You just had to be home, fed and bathed by the time Walt Disney came on. During the Summer months we even got to stay up late enough to watch Bonanza (if we were lucky Little Joe would kiss a girl, the Western equivalent of a red shirt beaming down to the planet on Star Trek).
Saturdays, on the other hand, were usually filled up with preparations for Sunday. We had to go to the bakery (gotta have a blueberry coffee cake for Sunday morning breakfast, and Granddaddy needed his weekly dozen brownies), the grocery store and the dime store (as kids, there were paper dolls to be bought, and a few years later you had to have a pair of pantyhose for church). It was a mad rush to fit in all the weekly errands that the Blue Laws wouldn’t allow after midnight Saturday night.
Once I grew up and started working, Sundays became the (unfortunate) gateway to Monday and another workweek. It’s a harsh reality, but Sundays can be the saddest day of the week if you let them. And you know you’re in the wrong line of work if you start dreading Monday before you’ve had your first cup of coffee on Sunday morning. Luckily, now I no longer fear Sundays, they’re just…a day. I started working for myself (from home) a few years ago, and if I have a project to work on, I’m busy seven days a week. If I don’t have a project…well, I’ve recently developed what some might think is a pretty unhealthy relationship with Netflix.
So here I sit, still cozily bundled up on the couch with a cup of coffee that’s growing colder by the minute. Goodwill is sounding like a lot of work about now, and I realize that I’m humming to myself…and I just happen to sound a lot like Kris Kristofferson…
…cause there’s something in a Sunday
that makes a body feel alone…
on the sleeping city sidewalk
Sunday morning coming down.
Ooh…just then I realize that I can probably get some pretty decent day-old coffee cake at the Safeway…down the street from the Goodwill…which is on the way to the neighborhood watering hole. I think Kris would be ok with me deciding to have a Funday instead of a Sunday…don’t you?