That Sunday night feeling
Dinner is done and cleaned up, the kids are bathed and in bed (all but the 2yo who is another story completely). Laundry is almost done, groceries are bought and dinner for tomorrow night is already decided. I attempted to pick out an outfit for work but
hated everything in the closet didn’t feel like ironing so I’ll worry about that in the morning.
Ugh, it’s Sunday night. I hate Sunday nights. My hate is not a new thing, it goes back as far as I can remember probably back to grammar school. Back then I didn’t think too much about it. I can vaguely remember a dull ache in the pit of my stomach which usually happened after my mom would ask if I had finished my homework. It was not an ache that hurt it was more like butterflies, a nagging “feeling” that the weekend was over and it was back to the weekday routine for another 5 days.
I don’t remember “the feeling” much in high school. High school was fun though. It was hanging out with friends and volleyball practice (yes, I was not only on the volleyball team but I was captain senior year). It was seeing your crush in the hallway and copying algebra homework at lunch.
“The feeling” didn’t happen much in college unless there was an exam or maybe the start of a new semester. Something I wasnt quite ready for or knew what to expect. College was still fun and meant seeing friends, planning a night at the bar or watching Melrose Place with housemates.
“The feeling” came back full force once college was over and I had my first real job. I chalked this up to not really loving my first post college experience. It was in a small direct marketing office and my job consisted of picking out mailing lists that would suit whatever marketing campaign was being developed. I remember “the feeling” would start to make its presence known in the late afternoon when I would just be getting home from running errands. A dull, nagging reminder that work was tomorrow and all fun was over until next weekend.
The years went by and “the feeling” stuck around. It would go away for long weekends or the start of a vacation but come the end of the vacation it would hit me like a ton of bricks. I don’t remember having “the feeling” during my maternity leaves, then again I can’t remember a lot about my maternity leaves due to the lack of sleep and sanity. However, I do remember feeling sick to my stomach the night before each of my maternity leaves was over.
I don’t know what my problem is. I have worked at my job for over 11 years so it’s not a new environment full of people I don’t know. Maybe it’s just not knowing what will be waiting for me in my little cube. The memo sitting on my chair or the voice and/or emails waiting for my reply asap.
I can’t be the only one who experiences this, am I? My grandfather worked till he was 91, he LOVED Monday mornings and would leave with a huge smile on his face. My friend Mrs. Jeter works from home on Mondays and I am pretty sure she doesn’t get “the feeling” on her Sunday nights. The husband seems fine, I havent heard him complain of anything as he sits in the other room playing some war game on his phone.
I guess I should try to make a truce with “the feeling.” It’s been around for many years and I don’t see it going away anytime soon. I wonder if I loved my job if it would still stick around or go bother someone else. Hmmmm, that is something to think about.
It all starts with baby steps so tonight, instead of dwelling on “the feeling”, I will pour some wine (please let there be wine left) and read my book and enjoy the last hours of a nice weekend
until next Sunday.