Sundays Are Actually Alright

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I think the Sunday Scaries are massively overblown. There, I said it. I say it knowing that I am likely to be booed and hissed at, tomatoes pelting me as I make my walk of atonement like Cersei Lannister. I don’t care; the contrarian in me is compelled to say this. I like Sundays, and I think they’re fine.

Obviously, they’re not as good as Saturdays or even Fridays when you don’t have a care in the world going into the next day. You can’t stay up as late as you want on a Sunday night, and you have very little leeway to drink with the start of a new work-week fast approaching. On the contrary, you’re probably starting your Sunday on the brink of death, with a pounding headache and a bad case of dry mouth. But if you’re an adult who did not blackout without the proper preparation, you will survive this day.

Look, I that it’s not a good look to spend half of your morning on the verge of vomit. I wasn’t doing so hot after last Friday and Saturday and woke up on Sunday morning wishing I could switch lives with anyone else on the planet. Knowing that you now only have one day to mentally prepare yourself for a looming five days at the office isn’t fun for me either. But, in this incredibly odd turn of events, I will be the one to paint the glass as half full for you.

Sure, you’re hurting on Sunday morning, but the hangover gives you a blanket excuse to get out of any obligations or social gatherings you may have committed to. No one is going to question you turning down a hike, going to church, or attending another day-drinking festival after you text them the words “I’m too hungover.” Plus, being hungover is equivalent to being sick which means you have carte blanche to watch some terrible action movies.

But let’s say you’re more extroverted than I, and the idea of spending the entire morning eschewing your friendly hangout obligations doesn’t fill you with that warm, fuzzy feeling like it does with me. Well, Sunday still has you covered. I know it’s cliched and bougie as hell, but Sunday brunch is a thing because the more social of us need this little grace period to taper our hangovers. And if getting some endless cheap champagne with delicious breakfast tacos doesn’t sound great for you, there’s always some other chill activity that your friends will be more than happy to partake in.

You see, Sunday is the day of rest. It’s tailor-made for low-key activities, whether it be hanging out at a friend’s house watching the game, taking in an art exhibit, or out catching a Sunday matinee. Unlike Friday and Saturday, there isn’t that implied pressure to go hard and “get turnt” as the youths are saying. You don’t need to feel bad about feeling weary, tired, and lazy on Sunday because everyone feels that way. We’re all in this together, collectively, and isn’t it kind of nice to have that built-in understanding that you won’t be expected to do something strenuous on this day?

Sunday is your day. The day when you can, and should, feel comfortable saying “no” to whatever plans someone tries to rope you into.

“But Josh,” you might cry, “I still have to go to work tomorrow! And I have to do all the chores and errands that I didn’t do the last two days because I was browning out at a club.”

Why is that such an odious task? On the contrary, it’s another perfect excuse to rein your plans in on a Sunday. Rather than going too far down the rabbit hole at brunch, you’ll keep yourself in check, knowing you need to hit Whole Foods and do some laundry. You can give yourself that entire afternoon to take care of those menial tasks, be by yourself, and do whatever you want. If you find this stuff unpleasant, well I’m guessing that you’re already not feeling so hot on a Sunday afternoon. And if you have to be miserable, why not bite the bullet and be productive.

For me though, there is nothing better than coming home on a Sunday evening. I have all my food ready to eat for the week, freshly laundered sheets on the bed, a tidy house, and nothing but a few hours alone to watch Jessica Jones or play Fortnite. And, best of all, the knowledge that no one is going to ask me to go out and spend all my energy being around other people. I get to relax. Be alone. Chill in my own house. And, for one blissful night, before I have to go back to work, I get some peace. .

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Josh T.

Don't call me a liar, but you don't have to call me a truther.

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