Sunday, November 13

Sunday

paint on some wood, duh
You know when you were little and you saw moms or adults doing things on Sunday afternoons, so effortlessly, and you couldn't imagine how they weren't just hating Sunday? Sade, U2 playing on the boombox by the pool next to the freeway, buying discounted shoes in Pico Rivera, rows of boots and stars and diamonds on the bottom of shoes, Lifetime movies with aunts. I hated all of it.

So on a Sunday afternoon with nothing I have to do, or nowhere I have to be ( feels like it's been months of have-tos), I find it thrilling to choose how I spend the day. I can pick the basil that's wilting because it's too heavy on the plant, I can read a short story, I can write, I can clean out purses, I can go for a really long jog and look at red and golden leaves, I can watch the rest of the 3rd Narnia movie, I can eat pan dulce and dip it in coffee with my mom and aunts. And I can enjoy all of it and my body rests more toward where it should be, not all tensed up high up near my ears. Just that alone is worth so much.

3 comments:

Natalie (Fashion Intel) said...

I used to dread Sunday nights as a kid because I knew that meant baths, homework had to be done and that the weekend was over. I now, like yourself, relish in simply choosing whatever it is I want to do on such a relaxed day.

mari said...

I'm not alone! It must be a universal sign of a grownup, whatever it is it seems elusive and luxurious. Viva Domingos!

Silvia said...

I can't believe you hated Sundays! What a funny kid.