As my friends know, I’m very protective of my Sundays. To the extent that I have come to think of them as Selfish Sundays.
I’m glad to get brunch, or to meet for coffee. But once 2p or 3p rolls around on Sundays, I’m ready to be on my own.
Ask me to dinner. Suggest seeing a movie. Any other day? Cool. On Sunday, this is me.
It all started with this guy. We’d usually spend Sunday afternoons apart, but get back together for dinner at the end of the day. While he was the better cook of the two of us, on Sundays, I’d whip something up while he played basketball with his friends. It became a fun little routine.
When we split, Sundays were hard. I cried a lot some Sundays. But I soon found it helped to plow through with what I had learned to enjoy.
Now Sundays are rarely anything but pure joy for me. I don’t make apologies for staying in bed past ten a.m. I blog (hi!). I walk around and think. I read books.
Do you have a ritual or routine you guard fiercely? If so, what does it entail?