Monday, Monday

When I was a kid I hated Mondays. Mondays meant back to school. I liked school, but I liked not going to school better, so when Sunday evening rolled around I started to get in a funk. I'm old enough that Sunday night meant The Ed Sullivan Show. Plate spinners, the Beatles, Toto Gigo, the lot. I loved that show and looked forward to it every week. But after watching good ol' Ed I had to go to bed, so then I started to hate him too.

Enough time has passed that I like Monday's now. I like the routine of Monday thru Friday. Getting up, getting things done. I'm doing a major rewrite on my next novel which is not one of my favorite things, but now that I'm sleeping properly again I'm getting back into getting some work done and it feels pretty darned good!

In spite of that, for some darned reason I still hate Sunday evenings. Maybe it's because my husband is working and it'd be nice to have Sundays as family time. But I really think it's Ed Sullivan's fault.