I live for Friday evenings through to Sunday afternoons at the moment. And while Monday's are by no means my favourite days of the week, at least they aren't as bad as Sunday nights. Prehaps it's the anticipation of the week ahead being worse than the last, or knowing that while I've got sunkissed skin from the weekend, I'll soon be stuck back in an office while the sun and fresh air taunts me from outside.
More likely, I think that the Sunday Night Blues that developed in my boarding school years have never quite left me. Anyone who had to make the long drive back into town after an amazing time at home - eating good food, sleeping in your own room, catching up with family and friends - will know what I'm talking about! My brother used to call it the "dirty laundry feeling", knowing that once you were back in hostel, back to reality, you'd have to change all your linen (a true feat for a 9 year old kid - duvet covers proved an enormous challenge for those tiny arms) and sift through that smelly laundry from the past week to tick it off on the laundry list!
And then there was Chapel...the 3rd compulsory service of the week...in our formal wear. Getting those blackmail stockings on over sunburned legs, still hot from the summer temperatures and sticky with chlorine, was never pleasant. My grandfather used to say that he went to Church enough during his boarding school years to never have to go again (this didn't go down well with my Gran!) While I might not agree fully with Grandpa, I'll avoid the Sunday night service at all costs.
Other depressing things to avoid doing on a Sunday evening definately include watching Carte Blanche (the music alone is enough to make you want to slit your wrists), eating any form of pie (King Pies in particular were always on the menu at school on Sunday nights) and wearing anything other than your PJ's from early afternoon onwards.
Now that the Sunday blues are over for this week, I'm off to conquer Monday morning...
No comments:
Post a Comment