I love Sunday’s, but the day after is usually not on my list of favorites. You know going in [to the weekend] that Monday is going to suck.
Some Mondays are a little less painful than others. Usually due to the kind conversations some Sunday evenings can bring.
When you’ve completed the weekend’s work and literally have no [one] thing to do, the most satisfying item you choose to do can be a multi-minute phone call with someone that lives a state or two away and shares the same predicated nothingness as your evening.
Even so, when you wake up the next morning and flick the night’s dust from your eyelids, you are already looking forward to closing them again at the day’s conclusion.