Lazy Sunday
I don't claim to have invented the phrase "lazy Sunday," but for the record, I've been using it even before I knew about the Calvin and Hobbes full-color comics collection that bears the same title. In my case, I've always had a fondness for so-called lazy Sunday afternoons. I'm sure many people have them; those days when you don't feel like doing anything particularly productive, and you just sit around the house or take a relaxing walk and savor the life that you have now and everything and everyone that's in it. The trick is to not be involved in anything that would tax the mind and body (like worry about work the next day or the fact that you haven't started on your Christmas shopping yet). Some people go on trips, mostly with their families, perhaps to the mall or a picnic outside the city. I wouldn't consider those spending a "lazy Sunday" simply because they're not exactly being "lazy."
When I find myself alone in the house on lazy Sundays, I like to put on some music, or watch mind-numbing TV or DVDs. (The soundtrack to Reality Bites or maybe Matt Costa, Donavon Frankenreiter, Jamie Cullum or Rooney always puts me into lazy Sunday mode). A strategic position to be in is on the couch by the door, where, on a good day, I can usually see the afternoon sun showering everything in brilliant gold, including the uniformed ice cream man and his wheeled mini-cart, kids playing ball in front of our gate and the neighborhood tambays parked on their usual spot in front of the sari-sari store. Sometimes there would be the occasional salesman plying his wares: perpetual "special offers" on laundry detergent, plastic "tabos" and "batyas" and even whole living room "dividers" made of steel or wood. (I sometimes wonder how they can lug those things around, and if anybody ever actually, quite literally, gets those things off their backs).
When I'm not busy looking out into the world outside our house, I turn on the TV and lose myself in all the dreck it has to offer. I can usually count on HBO and Star Movies to provide at least a couple of hours worth of mindless time-killers; if not, there's always the re-broadcast of the latest episode of Conan or (if I'm really desperate) Leno, as well as series like CSI, Grey's Anatomy and Ed. And if I still don't find anything good enough to stare at for the next hour or so, there's always our DVD collection, which by now has gotten pretty *ahem* extensive. Currently I'm watching the first season of Huff.
Sunday afternoon is also the best time to curl up in bed with a good book. It's been a while since I did that though; I think the last was a re-read of "A Good Year" by Peter Mayle a few weeks ago, in anticipation of the upcoming movie release. I also leaf through a copy of "1,000 Places to See Before You Die," a gift from Ayen, which sometimes depresses me because it only makes me aware of all the places in the world I might never get the chance to see before I die.
I get pretty busy during the week, with work and after-work, er, "extra-curriculars." It's pretty cool sometimes to wake up Sunday mornings with absolutely nothing planned and just cruise along and let things happen without my active participation in anything. But then when 6pm rolls around or the moment the shadows lengthen enough to take over everything in sight, I can't help but feel slightly queasy; another day gone and only Monday and the rest of the working week to look forward to. Sigh.
When I find myself alone in the house on lazy Sundays, I like to put on some music, or watch mind-numbing TV or DVDs. (The soundtrack to Reality Bites or maybe Matt Costa, Donavon Frankenreiter, Jamie Cullum or Rooney always puts me into lazy Sunday mode). A strategic position to be in is on the couch by the door, where, on a good day, I can usually see the afternoon sun showering everything in brilliant gold, including the uniformed ice cream man and his wheeled mini-cart, kids playing ball in front of our gate and the neighborhood tambays parked on their usual spot in front of the sari-sari store. Sometimes there would be the occasional salesman plying his wares: perpetual "special offers" on laundry detergent, plastic "tabos" and "batyas" and even whole living room "dividers" made of steel or wood. (I sometimes wonder how they can lug those things around, and if anybody ever actually, quite literally, gets those things off their backs).
When I'm not busy looking out into the world outside our house, I turn on the TV and lose myself in all the dreck it has to offer. I can usually count on HBO and Star Movies to provide at least a couple of hours worth of mindless time-killers; if not, there's always the re-broadcast of the latest episode of Conan or (if I'm really desperate) Leno, as well as series like CSI, Grey's Anatomy and Ed. And if I still don't find anything good enough to stare at for the next hour or so, there's always our DVD collection, which by now has gotten pretty *ahem* extensive. Currently I'm watching the first season of Huff.
Sunday afternoon is also the best time to curl up in bed with a good book. It's been a while since I did that though; I think the last was a re-read of "A Good Year" by Peter Mayle a few weeks ago, in anticipation of the upcoming movie release. I also leaf through a copy of "1,000 Places to See Before You Die," a gift from Ayen, which sometimes depresses me because it only makes me aware of all the places in the world I might never get the chance to see before I die.
I get pretty busy during the week, with work and after-work, er, "extra-curriculars." It's pretty cool sometimes to wake up Sunday mornings with absolutely nothing planned and just cruise along and let things happen without my active participation in anything. But then when 6pm rolls around or the moment the shadows lengthen enough to take over everything in sight, I can't help but feel slightly queasy; another day gone and only Monday and the rest of the working week to look forward to. Sigh.
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