The Happiness Challenge: Day 25

It's Sunday Funday, folks! One of my favorite days of the week. I used to really dread Sunday evenings, and the dread of Sunday p.m. pretty much ruined the rest of the day too. I think it probably started in college, because if I was home visiting my family for the weekend, Sunday nights meant the end. And as much as I grew to love Athens, I was pretty hardcore homesick the first two years. (You read that right. Ask my parents about the phone bills. And about the trick my dad played on me to force me back every quarter.) Once I was out of school and living in Birmingham (hardcore homesick for probably close to four or five years—hey, sorry, Magic City. You took a while to grow on me.), Sunday nights signaled another drive away from my family, or if I'd spent the weekend here, that work was closing in. I don't know, it was just depressing.


And then I decided to do something about it. About four years ago, my church added a 6 p.m. service, and from there everything fell into place. Sundays meant I could sleep in. Drink coffee till 2 in the afternoon. Do laundry (which I love). Fold the clean clothes (which I don't love). Watch movies. Sundays became my day. And when the dreaded late-afternoon approached, I'd take a shower and go to church, which meant I was out of the house during the worst part of the day. Getting up off the couch is half the battle.

Sometimes, I'd meet friends for dinner (Val and I got into a real Sunday night P.F. Chang's pattern for awhile) or, better yet, go to the movies like I talked about here. Then I'd come home and watch Desperate Housewives on DVR. (See, the church attendance washes away the sin of the nighttime soap opera addiction. Ha. Kidding.)

This is still pretty much my MO on the Sundays I'm in Birmingham. I went to a late movie last night (go see The Hunger Games!), and I stayed up till around 2 a.m. playing iPad solitaire and watching Bridget Jones' Diary. (My life is riveting. See why I don't post these things on FB?) But that means I slept till after 10 this morning. I drank coffee till at least 1 p.m., and then I sorted laundry. I've talked on the phone with friends, cleaned my room, and just generally done what I wanted. I'm not fit for a public outing (hello, nursing home hair), but soon I'll jump in the shower and head out for a few hours. I'll probably swing by Target later for groceries. Then I'll come home and watch Desperate Housewives while I iron clothes for work tomorrow. Boring? Maybe. Depressing? No way. Cause I own Sunday.

(During the five months of 2009-2010 that I didn't have a job, Sunday nights, and all the nights, were awesome. It's amazing how much weight work can put on your psyche. I loved Sunday nights especially, because that meant Mondays were almost here. Mondays were my favorite days during layoff time, because the outside world went back to work or school, and the day was quiet and all mine. The best.)