I have the Sunday night blues

 

I have the Sunday night blues
3 June 2014

Call the medics.  The doctor too.

I have the Sunday night blues.  And it’s only Tuesday morning.

Funny, how some days, one just has a nasty pit in your stomach, that won’t go away.  Coffee doesn’t fix it.  Breakfast neither.  Don’t even bother to try fruit – it’s a fruitless attempt!

Usually it’s a culmination of a whole bunch of things.  An overwhelming feeling that something is looming.  That a difficult patch is up ahead.  Or perhaps you’re in it already.  In the very thick of it.  And then other times, there’s simply no explanation for it at all.  It’s just a notion.  An inkling.

This is not dissimilar to the awful dentist-visit-approaching-feeling.  I get those occasionally too.

Not my fave.  By a long shot.  I actually dislike both equally.

And so I shall have to put some counteractive measures into place.  Pick some good tunes.  Wear something bright.  Favourite pair of jeans, are always good.  Takkies with lots of worn-in-attitude.  Hand pick an earworm song, that will lift my spirits the whole day long.  Plan and cook a comfort meal for supper.  Have a really good look at each of my kids today and give them a death-defying squeeze, telling them how much I love them.  Embrace that magical, glorious moment, when they all go to bed at night, so that I can have some quiet time.  Lay a good book in wait for bedtime.  Look forward to a restorative cup of coffee with my man when he comes home from work.  Maybe indulge in a bubble bath at some point in time.  Phone some of my favourite people.  Think of happy thoughts – like puppy dog smell (my Cole always smells like a puppy and we don’t even have one!).  The view from the stoep at the family holiday house in Kleinbaai.  Spooning with my Grantie at night.

But basically, irrespective of how I really feel, I’ll simply have to suck it up.  Pull my big girl panties up.  And get on with my day.

We all have days like these.  You and me.  I’m not alone.

Trick is to not let them clump together.  And form a pattern.  To see them as isolated incidences.  And move swiftly along.

So be gone with you Sunday night blues.  You’re not welcome here anymore.

I’ve got me some kids to hug.  Way more fun than keeping company with you.

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