Sundays have always been depressing. Since, I was about seven years old I dreaded Sundays. I know children love Sundays. A school holiday. We got to sleep in late and play all day long. But, I've always been a creature of habit, and to me no school, no friends, no 5-6 Disney hour, not staying alone with mum till 1900 (when dad came back from work), not meeting my bus friends - made me feel out of place, anxious and a wee bit sad. I liked my life the way it was, I liked the routine. It was weird to have my dad at home the whole day (this meant I had to speak softly, and behave myself and stay in fear of a silent,disapproving look all day along). It was weird to have no homework to do (I finished it on Saturday evening) , it was weird to have no where to go to, to have nothing to watch and nothing to do. We lived in a lonely house on a lonely street, and there were no kids to play with. This continued into my teenage. I was a loner,and never really had any friends to hang out with. And to have a whole day stretching ahead of you , a long empty day is a big pain. Even now, when everyday is a holiday and I don't go to the Univ, or work, Sunday still feels like a burden. Maybe it's because I don't get the whole house to myself, maybe it's because the friends I spend the week with suddenly have 'family plans' on Sundays, or maybe I've just fallen into the habit of loathing Sundays. After creating the world for 6 days, maybe the Lord shouldn't have bothered with creating an extra day for rest. It just bums some of us out. I feel very in tune with Billie Holiday ---- Sunday is gloomy; My hours are slumber-less; Gloomy is Sunday; With shadows I spend it all. I know you don't get to hear this enough, but -- Dear Monday, I Love You.