The Worst Time

A Sunday night has to be the worst time of an entire week. I've had such a good weekend and it was because I did absolutely nothing. I attempted some disasterous attempts at cooking in the kitchen on Saturday, caught up on some reading, cleaned, did laundry, played with Baxter, and wrote a lot. And now, it's all over. Tomorrow, I have to wake up and realize that it's Monday. Mondays aren't as bad as Sunday nights though. By the time you start your Monday, the week has already arrived. The work has already begun for the week. Sunday night is the worse because it's the anticipation, the waiting, the knowing that you have work the next day and that you have it for the next five days. I wish Sunday night was one time that never came.