Sundays are the ones in which I basically try to recover from all the other ones, and also I have the most amount of time with my children.
This Sunday, however, I only slept five hours because I worked until quarter til three and then felt the need to watch a television show. I worked that late because a wedding party ascended to the Tavern at 12:45 and I had no other choice but to show them a good time.
Which I did. The pictures will prove this.
But, this post is about Sundays. Sundays are the days that are so out of synch with the others. On the one hand, I should be recovering from the long week. This should be the day in which I clean, organize and strategize for the coming week.
It never works out that way.
Tonight I had in my mind that I would finally paint my room to get rid of the pink walls that my ex-wife placed there when we moved in. It's not fitting for a bachelor to live in such conditions, but I've only recently noticed this. I also only just recently realized that it's possible to purchase paint.
But, Sunday was supposed to be the day I was going to actually apply color to the walls to launch my bachelorhood into a new era.
With half an hour to go, dear reader, did I actually do this chore?
Of course not.
I went to a dinner party.
I went a fantastic dinner party with my ex-girlfriend. That in itself is somewhat problematic because our relationship is an impossibility, but yet we still see each other all the time. Sundays have been the days we've spent together for quite a while.
I wasn't going to go. I had intended instead to paint those walls. I felt that was the only way I was going to be happy. After all, I have destroyed my bedroom in order to prepare for the change and wanted it over. My next guaranteed night off is next Sunday so I thought I would get the painting done.
I even canceled, but reconsidered when I thought instead it would be better to socialize and have a great meal with friends.
So, that's Sunday for me, in a nutshell. Practical things that should be done take a back seat to living life. The details? They'll hopefully take care of themselves somehow. I will go to bed tonight in a disjointed room lined with blue tape.
And, that's okay. I learned a ton about Hawaii, about trees in Albemarle County, about New York, about journalism from someone who left the practice. I lived. I lived. I may not have painted, but I lived.