First Sunday off in 3 years

I don’t know what to do with myself. 

I’m sitting here, after sleeping for 10 hours, having a cup of coffee and thinking, “What now?”

There are things I could be doing and perhaps even things I should be doing. The house is open, there’s light rain failing and aside from the incessant traffic noise all is quiet.

I should be planning to move my stuff out of the apartment. I should be looking for a new job. I should be working on my resume. I should be deciding what’s next. But all those things are somehow just not that important. 

There’s something about being off work on a “real” weekend day. I know it’s just cultural… the seventh day and all that, but somehow the day off seems different.

One thing I’m appreciative of, is that there’s no screaming leaf blowers as a wake up call. 

It’s a lazy kind of Sunday, even the birds are muted in their squabbling.

Later, I’ll mosey over to the hair cut place in a while and maybe take myself out to breakfast…

Or Not

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