Sunday is an odd day for me.  I wake up early, for a Sunday anyways, and get the couple of littles situated before heading to work (littles are defined as little children, the two smallest.  The other two are referred to as the bigs.  Its fun to group things).  The drive is quiet with a lot of peace on the road.  Some mornings I might see 5 other cars the entire 25 minute drive.  I love the mornings when I don’t see another soul.  

I get into work and there are people here but not many.  The office is desolate.  The sun isn’t quite high enough yet to shine in through the windows and the entire place looks abandoned.  I love it.  Typically in the fall and winter I would punch the heat up a few degrees but someones removed the key so I’m left to shiver in the orphaned corner office.  I power up the computer then go to find the weekend paperwork to sort out on the desk next to me.  And then I fire up the browsers of gmail, wordpress, baseball, football, yahoo, google and sometimes twitter.  Most of these are distractions, twitter being the worst.  They have two paths; consume my morning or die an early death.

I bounce between working until I want to be distracted and being distracted until I feel like I should be working.  Twitter is usually the first to go as the maddening number on the browser tab is something I can’t ignore.  I engulf the sports stories that are of interest to me, whether it be reminiscing of the night before’s loss or preparing for the day’s game ahead.  Hopefully I don’t find myself in a link tangent way off course with twenty additional tabs open, my day is looking poor at that point.

I don’t write at the point though.  I need to let my mind warm up.  I don’t feel I’m my sharpest first thing in the morning.  I’m awake and alert and can do tasks that just require me to go on auto pilot but my creativity needs to defrost the windshield before it can see the road.  I get to that point around 11am which usually puts me in that awkward time where I wonder should I just do lunch early or try and accomplish something.  I typically fall to the goddess of yum.  This is the approximate time that I decide that its time I actually wrote something for the day before I let it get out of hand and lose the opportunity.

I love being alone though.  I thrive in silence.  I’m not saying its something I would want all of the time or even most of the time but these 8 hours of complete and absolute silence are held tight.  As much as I love it thought I do feel bad that my wife is home alone with four children.  I hate that its a day where I’m working and everyone else is relaxing and enjoying the last day of their weekend.  The trade off is that I don’t work Friday’s however those days are spent running around the valley doing errands and the busyness doesn’t end, aside from a brief blip between 3 and 4, until 7pm that night.  Saturdays are spent doing weekend things that are only able to be done on the weekend and then we reach Sunday, the oddity.

I’ll finish up my work day around 4pm, having accomplished everything I wanted work wise and not nearly enough I wanted to writing wise.  The Sunday night routine at home is then in full effect with baths and lunches and dinner and cleaning up in full swing.  Finally Sunday night is spend catching up on any TV and lounging around until time for sleep.  The I-hate-Monday’s waiting in the distance.  The entire day almost feels like a warm up for the week.  A slow ease into the monotony of another week spent doing the same things over and over again.  But Sunday is different from the rest in that sense.  Its not like the other days.  It has its ups and it has its downs.  Sunday has positives but isn’t without its downside.  I’ll take them though.  Thanks Sunday.




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