, ,

I’ve never liked Sundays. Something about them makes me feel hazy, like I’m moving in slow motion. They seem to be a day filled with inactivity and dreading the fact that the next day is Monday, which means back to school, work, or other real-life obligations.

My Sundays usually start with church. I have been a Christian as long as I can remember, and I grew up going to church. I adore the church I grew up in (and where I got married!), and I also adore the church that I found while in college. In both places, I cultivated a “church family” that was there to love and welcome me each Sunday, which significantly alleviated my Sunday sadness.

The fact that I am still “church shopping” in Seattle certainly amplifies my negative feelings about Sundays, but even when I was in Michigan Sundays brought me down. Part of the issue is the timing of church: services tend to be either in the morning or the evening. Morning services make me a little grumpy because it’s the weekend, and I really just want to sleep in. Sunday evening services, however, aren’t any better because they tend to either get in the way of dinner time or are before dinner, which effectively ends my day around 4pm, and the last thing I need on a Sunday is to feel like my weekend is over that early.

I really am an extrovert. All I want of my Sundays, and everyday for that matter, is to be around people I love. This is currently especially hard given that most of the people I know are 2-3 time zones away, but even when I was in Michigan I didn’t get to enjoy the company of my loved ones for long because everyone is busy on Sundays. They are doing homework, grocery shopping, cleaning up the house, or in some other way preparing for the next week. And now that I’m married to a football-lover, there is a whole other Sunday obligation that I hate more than all the others.

I could probably rant about football for pages on end (and someday, I may), but I will contain myself to a short paragraph. Because we are on Pacific Time, football starts here at 10am, so even convincing Andrew to go to church is exhausting. Then, when we get back, he has to catch up, and then games are on for THE REST OF THE DAY! There is no hope of doing anything until they are over, and by that time everything is closed, because it is a Sunday. So much for getting out of the house AT ALL on any Sunday for half the year.

Watching football is fun and restful for my husband, so I try not to rob him of that (even though football robs me of him ½ the days he isn’t working). And I understand that everyone has obligations on Sundays, including me. But by the time Sunday night rolls around, I can’t help but feel like ½ my weekend was wasted because I was too busy worrying about the week ahead.