# 37 Sundays
I find Sunday’s the most monumentally depressing day of the week. For those of you out there who think the same thing, I bet it’s because you’re dreading going back to work on Monday.
Well for me it isn’t that because I like my work. The problem for me is that work is a 7 day a week affair and sometimes I have to take a break. When it happens, it tends to be on a Sunday, usually if I’ve worked all Saturday. But I don’t know what to do on a Sunday. I’m at a loose end.
As it snowed on Saturday night I hoped for a snowball fight Sunday which never happened so I worked in the morning and stared out of the window. By the afternoon, I had lost the will to live. So I made a vat of coffee, poured a generous Baileys and watched films. My line up was classic girlie, boy meets girl, happy ending material – Bridget Jones Diary (1), You’ve Got Mail, Sliding Doors and Someone Like You.
Let’s face it, these stories are not true. They were made as escapism for us singletons who dread Sunday afternoons spent alone and not curled up on the sofa with a cosy blanket and a loved one for company.
Watching films does not get jobs done but it’s better than watching the list of jobs I have to do, not getting any smaller. Procrastination is a dangerous thing. Of course, I’d rather be distracted by the cosy blanket and the loved one.