Sunday, September 27, 2009

S-U-N-D-A-Y

Sundays used to be the sweetest day of the week. Circa middle school: church, Texas Roadhouse for lunch, Colts football, homework, and video games. Circa high school: sleeping-in, Mom Sunday dinner (something like pork chops, mashed potatoes, rolls, and cheesecake), a little homework, and hang with Zach.

Now, I don't live at home, I don't go to church, I don't play video games, and everyone seems to work on Sundays. Seriously, work on Sundays! Who does that?

I eat lunch alone. I have a stack of home about this















tall. And, I never seem to play sports on Sundays, a completely free day.

Sundays make me feel empty, like a popover without jelly.

What is a boy, um, man to do?

I could chop down a tree or ride my bike or play disc golf. But, I have no ax, my bike tire is flat still, and no one wants to play with me.



I'll probably sit around in boxer shorts, eat my dad's homemade candy and leftover birthday cake, and do some learnin'.






Secret: I only put the apostrophe to make it look cooler than it actually is. It is just learning.

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