Weekends are cool, but I have always struggled with that dammed "Sunday Depression". I really hate sundays. It's not quite so bad at this stage in my life, because at the moment I'm in a position where I don't hate my job. Man back in Melbourne when I was working for Nazis Inc., I could literally be reduced to tears on a sunday, just dreading the oncoming morning.
But I still hate sundays. I used to hate them as a kid because my parents operated a strict "bitch-slap them into church" policy. Then I hated them in college because the inevitable 10:00 lecture-hangover combination really cramped my style. Then I hated them in early adulthood because I had to develop a rigid "go to bed before 12" regime to prevent starting my week out in a foggy haze and just setting the mood for the oncoming week on the wrong note. As a true night owl, this is a very uncool routine for me, especially given the fact that we love lying in on a sunday and not getting out of bed til 11 or god forbid even 12... by midnight I'm JUST NOT TIRED on sunday night and there I am forcing myself to lay down and stare at the celing. But I'm a sleep-aholic and mondays are absolute disasters if I get less than 6.5-7 hours. Tragic.
Now it's not so much that I fear mondays because of the work-thing, I appreciate the fact that I do enjoy my job. It's just that the weekends are so much fun and really our weekdays are pretty routine-istic and predictable. A bit yawn. Again I sound like a spoiled brat because I know an average week for me and the Mr. is pretty interesting compared to that of say, my parents or I'm sure others. At least we have the dancing class/pub session on thursdays, my yoga class on tuesdays, and god forbid we forget "The Shield" on monday and "Kath and Kim" on wednesdays. heh heh. But yeah I'm kinda bitchy and selfish so of course I take everything for granted. God help me if I ever have kids and responsibility. I'm just sitting up here in the dark computer room avoiding the sunday chores (vacuuming, mopping, laundry - another reason I always hate sunday) watching the rain and feeling like wallowing in self-pity.
I HATE VACUUMING.
Positive mode: We had a great weekend. Friday night was the big halloween party at Cooper's that Fiona organised. I'd say about 40 people made it and everyone ACTUALLY dressed up, it was cool. The bar even closed itself to the public for us, and the dj was pretty decent (or was he?). Hannes and I went as:
BUSH and CHAIN-y.
We got the prize for most creative, which was champagne (YESSSS!) but I was jealous of the Spookiest winner because his (dave's) costume looked like so much fun!!! He was Death. And you totally couldn't tell who it was under that costume, which I always think makes the best costume..... Alan was also death, and he was always dancing with his staff of doom which looked so much fun. And his gf was the bride of dracula which meant she got to wear fangs.... I love fangs. Next year I have to figure out how I can incorporate fangs into my costume. Paul W. was a mummy. complete with white skull cap so you couldnt tell he was wearing a mask... but when we got to the party he took off the mask (duh) and kept the skull cap on, and looked like Enrique Iglesias. So it was almost like he had a super-cool double-costume-costume. Brilliant. But I don't think he intended it.
We has a Pre-Party drink at our house...
...and then taxied into the city with S. and L. because there was no way we could've walked all the way to Cooper's without Bush losing the majority of her foliage. Got to the party a fashionable hour late and I proceeded to drink vodka for the remainder of the evening because I was under the impression that if I was vodkaing all night, that my yoga teacher would never know I had been out on a bender the next morning at yoga class. ;-) Long story short (?) it was fun and then we all got into Club Renaissance for free after Cooper's closed and boogied our bottoms off while costumes gradually began to disintegrate.
Saturday I survived an hour and a half of yoga which actually didn't go so poorly, I think because I was bound and determined to prove to myseslf that I was NOT hungover, so I just tried harder. But then I kinda collapsed for awhile once I got home. My hangovers tend to be delayed-hangovers in my old age. We tried to pick out a new sink for the bathroom (not going well) and ended up eating toasted sandwiches instead. Took the puppies for a beautiful autumn afternoon walk in the park where the trees are holding off their impending winter-doom for me, for these last few days, met lots of other friendly dog owners (EVERYONE had the same idea, it was so beautiful out) , had a really nice long bath complete with candles, relaxing oily stuff, etc. Then went to Eastrn Tandoori for dinner, EVEN GOT A WINDOW SEAT overlooking the river which is just a miracle. I found out that I like dry martini (? who knew!?) and stuffed ourselves silly. The guy and his date at the table next to us decided that they had a bit too much to drink and actually gave us the remaining 3/4 of their bottle of Montes Merlot, which is one of our favourite Chilean wines... for free... imagine! We gladly walked home... it was dry!!!... and slept in today as usual. Quiche Lorraine for breakfast and really nice mocha flavoured coffee that we bought a few weeks ago from Maher's in Oliver PlunkettSt.
Nice. But now? The impending Sunday blues kick in. Hannes is downstairs banging in the bathroom because his pump is leaking or something, and I haven't vacuumed one square inch of carpet. -sigh- Here it comes.
I will proceed to now try and find flights for xmas and it is HARD!!
But I still hate sundays. I used to hate them as a kid because my parents operated a strict "bitch-slap them into church" policy. Then I hated them in college because the inevitable 10:00 lecture-hangover combination really cramped my style. Then I hated them in early adulthood because I had to develop a rigid "go to bed before 12" regime to prevent starting my week out in a foggy haze and just setting the mood for the oncoming week on the wrong note. As a true night owl, this is a very uncool routine for me, especially given the fact that we love lying in on a sunday and not getting out of bed til 11 or god forbid even 12... by midnight I'm JUST NOT TIRED on sunday night and there I am forcing myself to lay down and stare at the celing. But I'm a sleep-aholic and mondays are absolute disasters if I get less than 6.5-7 hours. Tragic.
Now it's not so much that I fear mondays because of the work-thing, I appreciate the fact that I do enjoy my job. It's just that the weekends are so much fun and really our weekdays are pretty routine-istic and predictable. A bit yawn. Again I sound like a spoiled brat because I know an average week for me and the Mr. is pretty interesting compared to that of say, my parents or I'm sure others. At least we have the dancing class/pub session on thursdays, my yoga class on tuesdays, and god forbid we forget "The Shield" on monday and "Kath and Kim" on wednesdays. heh heh. But yeah I'm kinda bitchy and selfish so of course I take everything for granted. God help me if I ever have kids and responsibility. I'm just sitting up here in the dark computer room avoiding the sunday chores (vacuuming, mopping, laundry - another reason I always hate sunday) watching the rain and feeling like wallowing in self-pity.
I HATE VACUUMING.
Positive mode: We had a great weekend. Friday night was the big halloween party at Cooper's that Fiona organised. I'd say about 40 people made it and everyone ACTUALLY dressed up, it was cool. The bar even closed itself to the public for us, and the dj was pretty decent (or was he?). Hannes and I went as:
BUSH and CHAIN-y.
We got the prize for most creative, which was champagne (YESSSS!) but I was jealous of the Spookiest winner because his (dave's) costume looked like so much fun!!! He was Death. And you totally couldn't tell who it was under that costume, which I always think makes the best costume..... Alan was also death, and he was always dancing with his staff of doom which looked so much fun. And his gf was the bride of dracula which meant she got to wear fangs.... I love fangs. Next year I have to figure out how I can incorporate fangs into my costume. Paul W. was a mummy. complete with white skull cap so you couldnt tell he was wearing a mask... but when we got to the party he took off the mask (duh) and kept the skull cap on, and looked like Enrique Iglesias. So it was almost like he had a super-cool double-costume-costume. Brilliant. But I don't think he intended it.
We has a Pre-Party drink at our house...
...and then taxied into the city with S. and L. because there was no way we could've walked all the way to Cooper's without Bush losing the majority of her foliage. Got to the party a fashionable hour late and I proceeded to drink vodka for the remainder of the evening because I was under the impression that if I was vodkaing all night, that my yoga teacher would never know I had been out on a bender the next morning at yoga class. ;-) Long story short (?) it was fun and then we all got into Club Renaissance for free after Cooper's closed and boogied our bottoms off while costumes gradually began to disintegrate.
Saturday I survived an hour and a half of yoga which actually didn't go so poorly, I think because I was bound and determined to prove to myseslf that I was NOT hungover, so I just tried harder. But then I kinda collapsed for awhile once I got home. My hangovers tend to be delayed-hangovers in my old age. We tried to pick out a new sink for the bathroom (not going well) and ended up eating toasted sandwiches instead. Took the puppies for a beautiful autumn afternoon walk in the park where the trees are holding off their impending winter-doom for me, for these last few days, met lots of other friendly dog owners (EVERYONE had the same idea, it was so beautiful out) , had a really nice long bath complete with candles, relaxing oily stuff, etc. Then went to Eastrn Tandoori for dinner, EVEN GOT A WINDOW SEAT overlooking the river which is just a miracle. I found out that I like dry martini (? who knew!?) and stuffed ourselves silly. The guy and his date at the table next to us decided that they had a bit too much to drink and actually gave us the remaining 3/4 of their bottle of Montes Merlot, which is one of our favourite Chilean wines... for free... imagine! We gladly walked home... it was dry!!!... and slept in today as usual. Quiche Lorraine for breakfast and really nice mocha flavoured coffee that we bought a few weeks ago from Maher's in Oliver PlunkettSt.
Nice. But now? The impending Sunday blues kick in. Hannes is downstairs banging in the bathroom because his pump is leaking or something, and I haven't vacuumed one square inch of carpet. -sigh- Here it comes.
I will proceed to now try and find flights for xmas and it is HARD!!
I have battled with 'Sunday Demons' for two years now. Sunday afternoon, like clockwork, at 4:00 you can find me in tears for no reason that I can explain. I thought it had so much to do with the divorce, after reading your post, I'm thinking, maybe not. I feel your hatred of Sundays and as much as it sucks, it's kind of a relief to know it's not just me.