It always does. In some ways, it was probably the best weekend I’ve had in a long time. Joey and I got to spend some good, quality time together without ten thousand obligations (which is usually what ends up happening all week and then all through the weekend). I’m taking active steps now toward where I want to be rather than just thinking and dreaming. And we spent all afternoon watching MST3K. Yay!
But, Sunday is always a sad day…nevermind the fact that it’s never the day of rest that it’s touted to be by the church folk (the same church folk who chide you for mowing your lawn on Sunday, but think nothing about going out to lunch and making some poor waiter work his butt off for their food…sorry, soapbox. I don’t necessarily think that there’s anything wrong with working on Sunday, and I prefer to say it that way rather than being hypocritical about it). Sunday always signals that the weekend is coming to a close, and when time together is so fleeting these days, it’s even sadder because I know it’ll be another four days until life returns to normal again.
I’m not morose about the week coming or anything…it’ll be a good week; I’ll work a lot, and we have a Sunday School fellowship on Tuesday, but I do enjoy the languid Saturdays and I miss them greatly on a Wednesday when I know I have to go straight from work to church and not back home until it’s already dark outside and the Kins is hungry.
I feel so scattered. Goodness. I just had a pomegranate popsicle and it was awesome.