While Justin worries about the night, my main concern for quite some time has been on taking back my Sundays.
I’ve been experimenting with this idea for several months now, and there was a little stretch where I was worried Sundays were slipping out of my grasp again. But now I’m back in the game.
Sundays are for church and then nothing.
Unless you count throwing a large slab of meat in the oven for the remainder of the day something.
You see, I’m an over-scheduler. I thrive on busy-ness. But when I’m working full time and figuring out how to make cupcakes for AGOMYR’s wedding and traipsing all over creation to see some of my favorite tweens play soccer, I tend to get a little frazzled.
I also have FOMO. It’s real. I hate knowing something is going on without me. More than just about anything.
But I like being a pleasant person.
I like getting sufficient sleep each night.
I like the way my face looks without splotches and dark circles under my eyes.
And I really like Netflix.
So I have to build in breaks.
Sundays are for breaks. I clear my calendar and do whatever I feel like. Sometimes I read, sometimes I binge on Netflix, and sometimes I do chores and errands. And if my ex calls to see if I can run out to meet her for lunch, then I do that.
I change the sheets, and wash our towels on Sundays. On good Sundays. But I also don’t beat myself up if none of that happens. Because going into Monday well-rested and fully recharged for the week ahead? That’s a feeling that beats any number of items crossed off a to-do list.