Why is it always...

...12:49 am when I start to write?

I let my guard down tonight and Sunday crept up on me. Saturdays are lighter than air, but Sundays can really push you in to a corner. It's always been this way. I inherited my dread of Sundays from my grandfather who seemed to loathe them for some unspecified reason. I never asked him about it. I should have. It would be a relief to blame it on genetics but I doubt any answer would actually help me. Only one thing does help, and that's work. When I work, I forget. And forgetting is useful. It's the pain killer when you ache and the hangover remedy on Monday morning. I didn't work today. Nor did I forget.

Sunday, I surrender.