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Am I the only one confused on Sundays?

I usually avoid committing to any outings on Sundays, reserving the day for relaxing and preparing for the work week. My Sundays used to be: wake up late, eat, watch something sports-related or an action movie from the 90s while I chase ideas on the Internet, eat, school work/lesson plans,  Simpsons and Family Guy, read something, fall asleep. There was an occasional errand or early dinner out, but that was basically it.

Now when Sunday shows up, I’m flooded with stress and pressure. I panic about everything I didn’t accomplish the previous week, yet avoid the tasks I need to do for the upcoming week. I think about everything I need to do, and feel guilty if I relax. A follower on Twitter told me to chill. When I chill, I think about everything I need to do. I procrastinate, then remind myself about all the time I’m wasting.  I know I should maximize my “free” time and do something, but then I can’t do anything if I haven’t done what I need to do!

So lately, I wander around, texting and talking about nonsense, playing Scramble. I sulk in my indecision; convince myself I’m lost. Then I solve the problem: I have to spend money (paying bills doesn’t count, of course). Around 4, I run to the mall or rush a friend through a quick dinner. There, I bought a lavender skinny jeans. A feeling of productivity. But that feeling fades as soon as I wish I were relaxing, or remember the meeting I’m facilitating the next day.

While I’m out, I get stuck in heavy traffic or a behind a but-it-said-10%-off-woman at Macy’s – and don’t even bother with the suicide mission I call any Boston area grocery store – and wonder when Sunday became another hectic day of crossing things off a to-do list? Growing up, I hung out and finished any homework, played at the park, early trip to the zoo every now and then, or a church-related event until I strayed away from religion. My parents were never stuck at the computer or frantically running around, and everyone seemed amiable and laid back.

I guess now the go-go-go has replaced a slow Sunday. Maybe it’s a (another?) sign that I’m getting old that I need to plan to relax, or perhaps my indecisiveness is getting worse. Or is it football withdrawl? Lingering Pats Nation depression?

Either way, my Sundays end the same way they began: hazy.

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