Everyone knows that phrase from Office Space, “Uh oh, sounds like somebody’s got a case of the Mondays,” to describe that all too familiar feeling of Monday. It marks the end of fun and the start of the work week. However, in my case, I get a case of the Sundays. Sunday is my Friday, which to put 2 and 2 together for you, means that I work on Sundays. One would think that since it is my Friday, that I’d be happy, but as it turns out, it’s more complicated than that.
Sunday used to be my favorite day. I used to love captioning pictures on Insta, “Sunday Funday” because whatever I was doing was fun, obvs. I loved football Sundays, hanging out with friends, and having nice dinners. When I picture Sunday in my head, I see butterflies flying around a brunch table or hot wings splattered across a plaid table cloth. I picture the water front. I picture me in a sundress out to dinner, having a steak, with my feyoncee.
Unfortunately nowadays, Sunday is complicated by work. While it marks the end of my week, it is also the end of the two busiest days of my week. I spend all day Saturday and Sunday selling like crazy, or trying to at least. It is exhausting. I talk a lot, I walk a lot, I feel the pressure a lot. By the time we’re done for the day, I’m pooped. I’m also starving. There is no time to stop and eat on the weekends, just enough time to grind it out. By about 6pm every Sunday, I’m a part loopy, part exhausted, part annoyed, but mostly starved human. I never know what I want to do or eat, just that I want something to do and something to eat. I’m usually trying to decide whether to join an on-going gathering, do nothing by myself, or convince my feyonce to stop whatever he’s doing to feed me.
While the above seems annoying, it doesn’t seem like enough to ruin an entire day, does it? Not really. It does, however, have potential to ruin a day when it is the ONLY day. Sunday is the only day that my feyonce is off from all work obligations. It is also, therefore, the only night that it is guaranteed that he does not get an appointment. Meaning, this is the only day and night that he can either make plans for himself or relax and do absolutely nothing. That puts a lot of pressure on just one day, “Better make the right choice!” So, what is the right choice? I’m not sure there is one.
I, because I’m me, think of Sunday night as our night. However, he can think about it as his night, since it is his only one. I am conflicted on this because I want him to enjoy his day but it also breaks my heart to get a text message from him at 3pm that reads, “Hey babe. I’m off to the waterfront!” I feel left out. I also know that it means my dream of having dinner with him, and him alone, is not likely to happen. It sometimes breaks my heart to read the opposite text, “Hey babe. I’m beat. When you’re done work can you pick up food?” This means that we are staying in, eating Sticky Rice take-out, and watching TV. That would be fine if it wasn’t what we do just about every other night! Look, I get it, he works 6 days a week. Sometimes on that 7th day, you just gotta do nothing. So, I order the take-out and watch TV. The pressure I put on this one night is insane, especially when it is complicated by so many factors. We, as a couple, do not have the luxury of saying, “Hey, tonight, let’s just stay in because tomorrow night we want to go out.” It’s one or the other.
It is possible to see us out somewhere on a Friday night, for example, so I want to clarify. Yes, sometimes we do get a Friday night or a lazy Monday morning free but the impending obligation is always there for one or both of us. One of us always has to work that evening or the next morning. We are never free from an impending duty. We can never let loose on the same day together. In fact, the only time in our relationship that we have been able to do so is when we are out of the country! Seriously. The only time we have consecutive, obligation-free, time together is on vacation. That’s banaynays!!
I sometimes worry, “Are we missing the good years?” Perhaps I shouldn’t call them the good years, but we are missing this phase. We had the young, wild, and crazy years together of partying when we first met. And now I’m feeling like in a blink, we’ll be in the, omigod we have a baby phase. We’re missing the time in the middle! We never get to plan a dinner on Saturday with friends. We never get to go to the beach or Atlantic City for the weekend. We never get to plan any extracurricular activities. We have our fun together but we rarely get to do fun things together, if that makes sense? I can’t just buy tickets to a football game or plan a trip to a vineyard. I can’t make reservations or book a weekend trip. I know this sounds like I’m whining but imagine that. Imagine never have totally free and clear time together to do whatever you want, without having to leave the country! And ya know what, that being said, we don’t leave the country enough!
I know a couple who seems to be on vacation every other month. I asked them once, “How do you do it?” I really wanted to know. Obviously everyone would want to know their secret, but I was desperate for it. My relationship thrives on that time away and I don’t feel like we do it often enough.
We need to start having a life together. We need to be able to enjoy this time together, because yeah, kids are around the corner! I said to him last week, “Something’s gotta give. It’s enough now. I’m over it.” He agreed. And Imma tell you what, if you we don’t figure it out soon, more trips to Mexico it is!