Last weekend, I texted one of my friends to hang out. Her response: “It’s Sunday. You cannot pull me out of bed on Sundays.” I remember times when I related to this all too well.
There’s a whole unspoken thing that Sundays are off-limits; they’re reserved for doing nothing and simultaneously stressing out about the fact that you’ve, in fact, done nothing all day.
It’s that impending doom of a Sunday evening, thinking about everything you have to get done and accomplish that week. It’s more than just being sad the weekend’s over, and it can truly take away all the joy of a Sunday.
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