THE SUNDAY SULK

I have always had a problem with Sunday afternoons. They are especially difficult when you have just spent an unusually wonderful weekend, or when you are coming back from a great vacation. Sunday afternoon is that panicky feeling you get, when wondering if you've done everything that needs to be done before heading back to work or school on Monday. It's coming down from a Saturday high, and settling into dull routine, or saying goodbye to a long-distance sweetheart. So, it's easy to understand why one might get a bit blue. What I can't understand is why I'm still having a problem with them, when I have no job or classes to report to on Monday, and it's Wimberley I'm coming back to, for pity's sake!

I went into a funk the minute I left Houston last time, stayed in it for the entire drive home, and right up until I climbed into bed that night. Part of it, of course, is having to leave John behind, but not all. I even experienced this after coming back from my two week care-taking exile in Dallas! I think it must be that, on weekends, and when you are away from home, you are somehow able to shut off that part of your brain which stresses out over the woes of the real world, or over that ever-increasing to do list on your desk, or over where you want your life to go, and how you are going to accomplish that. Then, on Sunday afternoon, the gate swings open, it all comes rushing back over you, and it always takes you a while to get it sorted out again, compartmentalized and prioritized. Or, at least, it does for me. If only I could figure out a way to do this in my sleep Sunday night, then I wouldn't have to keep wasting one fourth of a perfectly good weekend!