Sunday always arrives with some form of bitter melancholy. I used to think that Sunday was considerably worse than any other day, but anymore I don’t know that I believe that. I don’t know that any one day is inherently worse than another. That can probably just be attributed to the fact that I don’t have a routine that revolves around specific days, so I rarely have any expectation of the day that lay before me.
I remember thinking Sunday was a good day for a funeral, a good day for dying. Not that I ever had any wish of that being true, but I always felt empty and listless on Sundays. Like there was something that I needed to grieve and move beyond. But now, every day is seemingly the same. There’s no differentiating factors that make a Tuesday any more miserable than a Wednesday. My monotonous and banal life does a good job of blending the week into one muddied yet continuous timeframe. Nowadays I almost despise the weekends more than anything. It feels like if I have nothing going on during the week that it’s acceptable and normal, but if I have nothing to do on the weekends it’s shameful and embarrassing. I’m not saying that’s what other people think, I’ve never asked. But, I often feel ashamed of myself when I don’t have anything to do on a Friday night. When, in reality, I never have anything going on, and that’s okay.
I understand no one actually gives a shit whether I’m doing something over the weekend or not. I don’t know how often I’ve talked to people about how my week was or what I got up to over the weekend, but I know it’s infrequent. And, I certainly would never bring it up unprovoked because it would surely be wildly uninteresting.
I used to try to be as blunt and honest as possible when answering questions like that. Someone would ask me how I’ve been and I would say “Yeah, I’m not doing great,” which was true, but understandably uncomfortable. I just never saw the point in lying in a situation like that, but it often left the other person with little to say, or they would start asking more questions, which I hated. I don’t try to hide my emotions or keep that part of me locked away from others, but I also don’t want to be prodded about it. I don’t want someone trying to play shrink with me realistically. Sometimes I just need to say what’s on my mind without any any response, which I think is what this is meant to be.
I hope the week goes better.
Grub's Dirt 