Sunday Evening Blahs

I don’t know what’s the matter with me. But I absolutely HATE Sunday evenings. I despise them. They are full of dread. Why? I guess because what follows Sunday evening is Monday morning. And that means going back to work.

I suppose I should be grateful to have a job to go to, to bellyache about. But I’m just your garden-variety ingrate, I guess. I’m going to go wash up the supper dishes (we had chicken breasts with hollandaise sauce over fettuccini and brussels sprouts in lemon butter, washed down with chocolate cake and milk, should you wonder). Then I guess I’ll go flop into bed and watch some TV until I fall asleep. And then the alarm goes off. And then…

Leave a Comment

GDPR Agreement