Sundays used to be a day of visiting when I was younger. We’d go to my grandmother’s for dinner and maybe play some cards or watch an old movie on TV and definitely raid the candy dish.
Once we moved when I was in high school, there wasn’t much visiting going on – it was all about getting stuff done. And it stayed that way for a LONG time.
That probably sounds bad coming from a preacher’s kid (or maybe not since this show graced the airwaves) since Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest.
In high school, “stuff” was mainly homework. In college, it was homework and laundry. Once I was married, it was laundry and grocery shopping. These days it’s often homework, laundry, grocery shopping, and taking out the trash. Sometimes that’s in addition to going visiting.
We’d already gone to see my in-laws yesterday and ran a bunch of errands then. Today we skipped our usual lunch date with my parents because Mom got the icky bug my son had this week. Dad took the kid with him to follow through on Mom’s original plans to meet with my mother-in-law for basket bingo. So we have a quiet household in which to get work done.
I’ve been thinking about that work though this weekend. I wrote to someone yesterday that our work fills the amount of time we allot to it – and I’m thinking I need to test that statement. I have been running around like a maniac and feel like I have gotten little accomplished over the past couple of weeks. I’m setting a timer and diving in as soon as I hit PUBLISH on this post.
No sense prolonging the inevitable.
It’s Sunday and there’s stuff to be done.