The other day when I was stalking browsing Facebook, I came across this:
It was like the Facebook gods were speaking directly to me. If I had to recreate this meme, it would go a little something like this:
- I Honestly Don’t Think It’s Physically Possible to Get Out of Bed
- I Honestly Don’t Think It’s Physically Possible to Get Out of Bed 2.0
- Really. Again? This is Worse Than Yesterday.
- I Can See the Light! I Guess I’ll Go to Work Today
- Free At Last!
- Life Is Perfect. This Feeling Can, & Will, Never Go Away
Now, Sunday. Sunday is a two-parter. If you’re anything like me, you spend the better part of Sunday basking in the glory that is doing nothing. In my ripe age of 28, I’ve even started waking up as early as possible so that I can have as many waking hours of nothingness as possible (who am I?!). Life is great, coffee is wonderful, the couch is my oyster.
Then, 4:00 hits. The witching hour.
4:00 on Sunday is like standing on the edge of the high dive with zero swimming experience. Everything is fine and dandy, life is whimsical & lovely, and then BAM. All of a sudden, you’ve forgotten what it feels like to shower first thing in the morning, prepare 3(!) meals a day, and engage in social interaction. All traces of responsibility are nowhere to be found.
If I’m being honest here, I usually spend 4:00 on wallowing in my Sunday depression, and wait until 5 minutes before my husband says he’s ready for bed to fly into a whirlwind of activity. All of a sudden, packing lunches, doing a load of laundry, and laying my outfit out are of utmost importance, and WHERE ARE MY RAIN BOOTS. My tired husband is too nice to leave me in the dust as I wring out any possible remaining waking moments before I lay my sad head down on my pillow.
Finally, it is bed time. I stay on my phone as long as possible (surely there’s something I must have missed on Facebook/is it too late for a freak snow storm to close school?/etc.) to avoid sleep. Because sleep=waking up. And waking up the day after Sunday=I Honestly Don’t Think It’s Physically Possible to Get Out of Bed. Repeat.
Disclaimer: This cycle has nothing to do with my feelings about my job & students (both of which & whom I love more than anything) & more about my inability to fully embrace adulthood. Maybe one day.*
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