08 August 2010

'A Sunday well-spent brings a week of content'

Today, in a fit of boredom, I decided to measure my head. It's 21 and a half inches. Is that normal? I stopped short of looking it up.

Let me explain. Normally I work today and, having done so for the past two years, I've forgotten what to do on Sundays. Is there some code of conduct? I'm not religious, so there is no need to bring out the Sunday best. The reason I'm not at work is because my parents are away, so there's no Sunday Roast to prepare (mac and cheese is a much preferable option anyway.) Is there any point in Sundays? They seem rather benign. I have never longed for my (somewhat shitty) job as a waitress as much as I do now. My world has been turned upside down. On a Sunday. How ironic...

So blog, I turn to you in the hope that you can get me through the next 8 hours 35 minutes. Then it will be Monday. There's got to be something to do on Monday, right?

...my cat is twitching. I'm going to take that as a bad omen.


  1. I usually work Sundays too, but on the rare occasions I have it off, I spend the whole day eating. No joke.

  2. I devoured 2 slices of cake, 1 brownie, 2 cookies, 1 plates of egg and chips, 1 MASSIVE mac and cheese, and 1 bowl of ice cream. OH and a plate of salad.
    I think my whole GDA was in the first slice of cake...


Dare to be true: nothing can need a lie: A fault, which needs it most, grows two thereby.
- George Herbert

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