I don't know about anyone else, but I always have these really vivid ideas of what I am going to do on a Sunday, and envision myself waking up bright and early, fresh as a daisy and taking a long walk in the bitter wind, because yes, IT IS STILL COLD IN AUGUST OKAY.
Turns out, I never wake up until around 10AM on Sundays. And there's a high chance I am going to spend the next hour and a half slouched on the couch watching Friends re-runs, drinking tea and dunking aprox. 12 chocolate digestives. Diet starts tomorrow' - yawned everyone, on every rainy Sunday ever.
Then there's the other classic example that you tell yourself you will help to cook the food, or at least have a go at making some form of dessert that is 100% not needed or appreciated by your roast dinner bloat. But when does that ever happen? Lying in pyjamas until somewhere within the vicinity of the 14th hour seems so much more appealing, and then continuing forth to get a shower, use your BEST moisturiser, a face mask, painting your nails...and simply changing into fresh pyjamas. With a day like Monday ahead of you, you need serious preparation in the form of pampering, obviously. This is undeniably followed up with tea, and more tea, and a further 12 biscuits, you've had a hard week girlfriend.
Watching YouTube videos including Primark Hauls and Everyday Makeup tutorials is about as cool as it gets until the late afternoon/early evening when the food is ready and you drag your feet ALL THE WAY downstairs to eat, which is just such an effort.
You eat, you doze off, because food makes everyone tired. All of a sudden its eight o' clock and oh my god you haven't done that essay. Looks like you won't be getting to sleep until at least 11 o' clock now, after vowing that you will have an early night ready for Monday to hit you like a train. And it is approximately here ladies and gentlemen that 'The Sunday Feeling' kicks in (no need to elaborate, everyone knows it). Grim.
Why is it that Sunday's are like some unknown/different species of day?
Twitter & Instagram - thatspeach
Turns out, I never wake up until around 10AM on Sundays. And there's a high chance I am going to spend the next hour and a half slouched on the couch watching Friends re-runs, drinking tea and dunking aprox. 12 chocolate digestives. Diet starts tomorrow' - yawned everyone, on every rainy Sunday ever.
Then there's the other classic example that you tell yourself you will help to cook the food, or at least have a go at making some form of dessert that is 100% not needed or appreciated by your roast dinner bloat. But when does that ever happen? Lying in pyjamas until somewhere within the vicinity of the 14th hour seems so much more appealing, and then continuing forth to get a shower, use your BEST moisturiser, a face mask, painting your nails...and simply changing into fresh pyjamas. With a day like Monday ahead of you, you need serious preparation in the form of pampering, obviously. This is undeniably followed up with tea, and more tea, and a further 12 biscuits, you've had a hard week girlfriend.
Watching YouTube videos including Primark Hauls and Everyday Makeup tutorials is about as cool as it gets until the late afternoon/early evening when the food is ready and you drag your feet ALL THE WAY downstairs to eat, which is just such an effort.
You eat, you doze off, because food makes everyone tired. All of a sudden its eight o' clock and oh my god you haven't done that essay. Looks like you won't be getting to sleep until at least 11 o' clock now, after vowing that you will have an early night ready for Monday to hit you like a train. And it is approximately here ladies and gentlemen that 'The Sunday Feeling' kicks in (no need to elaborate, everyone knows it). Grim.
Why is it that Sunday's are like some unknown/different species of day?
Twitter & Instagram - thatspeach