I ♥ Sundays

So. Hi.

Don't you just love doing absolutely nothing?

It's Sunday. And, in the classic Sunday-sense, it's a bit rainy and gray outside, I had bakery-buns with Nutella for breakfast, Ella Fitzgerald is playing on the stereo, my homework is done, and the only thing left for me to do today, is debate which crappy show I want to watch, and eventually waddle down to the gym.

This is what I call down-time. Sunday is my no-human-contact day. The only people who get to see me on Sundays are my family; and that's just because they happen to live with me. Otherwise, no one is welcome in my Sunday Sanctum. Except perhaps Bridget Jones, Jude Law, or Barney Stinson.

I    ♥    S U N D A Y S    B E C A U S E :

♥    It's my no-human-contact day.

♥    I wear my pajamas all day.

♥    My homework for the entire week is done, thereby removing some of my constantly nagging stress.

♥    I have time to watch crappy and ridiculous Youtube videos, bad TV-shows, and read F My Life as much as I want.

♥    My dog that comes in to my room to visite me, squeaking a little, as he presses his wet nose into the palm of my hand, and sheds all over me, as he pushes his furry body against my leg to be petted.

♥    I don't even consider wearing make-up, and I just sloppily dump my hair in a bun for the day.

♥    My room is always cold on Sundays; and that suits me well, since I mostly end up cuddling in my woolen sweater, my sweatpants, my fluffy pink slippers, and a scarf that covers my entire head.'

♥    I can always hear my parents having lunch together, though I don't join them, since I have slept in, and Ella Fitzgerald chiming in to the clinks and clunks of their forks on their plates.

♥    My friends call with news and saucy gossip from the weekend, and I politely try to dodge human contact before late in the afternoon, while enjoying giggling Sunday girl talk.

♥    I get to read the paper, especially the culture section, or MS Berlingske.

♥    I always end up scavenging what tiny bit of chocolate I can find.

♥    My mother comes padding in with my laundry at half-hour intervals, perhaps smiling at me, though without saying anything, both of us completely content with this silent ritual, and the passing smell of clean clothes socks and T-shirts.

♥    I eventually force myself out the door late in the afternoon, for the first time of the day, to go work out at my gym, where, after some self-coaching, deliberating, procrastinating and hesitating, I end up feeling great.

♥    I come home, hopefully to a steaming hot meal, perhaps watch a movie, and fall asleep as soon as I hit my bed.

Ella Fitzgerald Let's Do It (Let's Fall In Love)

Thanks for listening,

I Am Roseberry.