Unlike that old song, Sundays mornings never feel easy to me. Sunday afternoons are far from simple. And don't even talk to me about Sunday evenings.
Why is it no matter how old I get, every minute of Sunday that passes still feels like one moment closer to a loss of freedom? Somehow, Sundays still equal impending doom. I loved school (yes, I was that girl) and I hated Sundays then. I like what I do now and still Sundays herald a feeling of dread.
I am hereby vowing to get over my Sunday-itis. Today I tried to distract myself with housework and cleaning. My house is shiny now. However, no shine on me. That option didn't work. I will find the cure!