When I was free, I hated Sundays. I still view them the same as I did back then, but the difference is my sobriety. Sundays, to me, are the end; a symbol of death. The work week is thru, the weekend is floating down from its Saturday night valaganting, and Sunday is there to nurse the past 7 days to its final demise. There aren’t many activities to do on Sunday en lieu of the forth coming Monday. Even if there is something going on, say a concert, there is that premonition in the back of my mind that says, ‘Tomorrow work begins’. It was a very depressing time in my life. I inherited a hangover every Sunday, and I couldn’t begin the hair-of-the-dog because of Monday. I even wrote a song called “Depression on a Sunday afternoon” where the chorus is as such:
“Fill my drink up, though I never sip the cup,
Fire one up, though I never take a puff,
I wanna die so bad, though I’m too comfortable to move,
It’s my depression on a Sunday afternoon”
(Believe me, it’s a lot more melodic than what you’re reading)
All of this is to say that my feelings towards Sundays are changing. You might be wondering why this blog entree is refering to Mondays in the title. Rest assured, my views of Sunday is because of Monday: the beginning. The start of another week that is the worst day possible… to some. I love Mondays. In here, the weekends are SLOW and annoying; not that anything changes around here. It’s more of the atmosphere. Mondays are the beginning of a wonderful time where I can get work done without a bunky in the cell with me. He can go to the gym, class, etc., and leave me to my work. Mondays are blessing. I hope all of you find comfort in your Monday routines, because I hope all of you are doing something that brings you joy. Know this: even though I’m incarcerated, I have found a calling that gives me purpose and joy. HAPPY MONDAY!
Go see something live!
Categories: Matthew Epperson