How to Overcome a Lonely Sunday

Sunday.
For me, it is the day of the week when my emotions are most like a roller coaster.

No matter how meaningful a day I spend, I cannot help but see the shadow of the dreadful, depressing daily routine (i.e., work) that is about to begin.

This phenomenon is more likely to occur the more fulfilling a day I have.
I find myself thinking, 'I had such a good time, yet I have to live through hell again starting tomorrow...'
Much less can I think, 'I'll do my best starting tomorrow!'

If I could, I would like to wake up slowly like I did today, read a book, sometimes water the plants, and take a little extra time to cook a meal for myself.

A life like the one above might be possible on weekdays for 'proper people,' but unfortunately, I am not in that category.

On days when I have work, I want to sleep for even one second longer, so I don't mind skipping breakfast.
I dress casually, put on makeup casually, and wear a mask because I don't really want people at the office to see my face.
I have a quick lunch, and when I get home, even though my heart wants to read a book, I end up just playing with my smartphone.

Perhaps the only times I can truly shine as myself are Friday nights and Saturdays.

I often hear people say, 'You're missing out on half of your life if you don't know about such-and-such,' but because of this personality of mine, I can't fully enjoy my precious Sundays, and since I'm sure I'm missing out on at least one day a week because of this, in terms of life, I am definitely missing out on one-seventh of it.

It was at a bookstore that I, a girl who is missing out on one-seventh of her life, happened to come across 'My Lonely Sunday'.

This book is a collection of essays in which 17 people of different ages and backgrounds write about the 'lonely Sundays' they each feel.

As I read it, I see how each of them accepts their lonely, sentimental Sundays as they are, struggles with them, or resists them.

However, each person finds their own way to come to terms with it and spends their Sunday accordingly.
While I felt relieved that I wasn't the only one, I also felt envious of their precious Sundays as they tried to move forward while accepting their loneliness.

I suddenly decided to look back and see if there had ever been a Sunday I spent with a neutral feeling.


And then, I found one. Days when I didn't hate Sundays.

That was the year before last.
Actually, for half a year, I was the nominal manager of a select shop in a corner of a shopping street.
Saturdays and Sundays are the busiest times, so I couldn't take them off, and I couldn't even take proper breaks.
But for me, it wasn't that painful.

I want the shop to be a lively place rather than one where crickets chirp.
I am happy when customers who come in show interest in the products.
Although the conversations are trivial, it is fun to be able to have more warm, human-to-human conversations than usual, which are unique to shopping streets, with various people.

For me at that time, Sundays were surprisingly fulfilling.

Due to various circumstances that I cannot write about here, I left that shop shortly after and took my current job.

Writing this far, I realized that I don't actually hate working.
Rather, I realized for the first time that work becomes a part of life, and the more it fits me, the more comfortable it feels.

Perhaps I am the one creating my own lonely Sundays.
If that's the case, maybe I am the only one who can create Sundays that aren't lonely.

By getting a glimpse into the Sundays of 17 people, I was given an opportunity to re-examine my own lonely Sundays.

My lonely Sundays will likely continue for a while longer, but I want to diligently weave days where I can someday say, 'Sundays aren't so bad after all.'