Lazy Sundays

Sundays lazing around the house are nothing new, that is ALL me. I have been a Sunday lounger my entire life. When I was little I suppose I was out playing, but by the time the preteen years came around I would be up most of Sat night reading. Mass came at 8:30 am so we were up early, then breakfast, then the paper (comics at that time) and napping away the afternoon. My teens were filled with late night Sat slumber parties, or again reading until dawn. 8:30 am felt SO much earlier, then breakfast, paper, and football/napping on the couch the entire afternoon until our big Sunday dinner at five.

I can not tell you how irritated I get when I have to do something on a Sunday. There are no clean words to express it. Even, ashamedly, if it's one of the kids birthday parties. Sunday belongs to me.

For "The Brown Eyed Man" and I, lazy Sunday's were perfect. Sleep in, big breakfast, football, NASCAR (I wont miss that) snoozing on the couch, working a crossword or reading a book together. I will miss that. Nothing is sexier to me than a man with brains. We'd get around to dinner and then watch Nature together before he headed off to a few hours of work. This is the time of evening I'm used to being alone on a Sunday, yet every Sunday for the past 19 months I would be waiting for him to come "home". Knowing there will be no 11:30pm phone call saying "I'm on my way, do you need anything?" is absolute torture. Wondering if there will be a call saying "I'm on my way to get my stuff." is worse.

So, how did I spend this lazy Sunday with my new plan in place? Slept in until noon, had some wonderful cinnamon coffee, blogged, chatted with #2 for a long time about relationships and neighbors. I came away with some really good insight into my situation, and hope that things will settle down upstairs. She called the landlord at 10 last night, and I planned to call him tomorrow am.

Washed the entry and bathroom floors, exciting I know. Filled up the kids Easter bags!

Took a long walk, trying to just focus on the sound of my feet and the air flowing over me. It's called meditative walking and it's supposed to be another form of meditation. It actually worked better at shutting up the constant yap in my head than anything else I've tried.

When I got home I decided left over homemade pizza (thanks to my bro in law) and Journey to the Center of the Earth were in order. The pizza was great, the movie not so much. I was interrupted almost immediately by the phone. It was the landlord asking about #3. I had my act all rehearsed. When I play helpless he just can't help but falling into my trap. lol Bad I know, but hey... old lechers get what they deserve. :) So anyway we talked about all the banging and yelling and in and out of the back at all hours of the night. I told him how I was on my own again, and "I just don't feel safe." How I love my apartment, and he and I have a great relationship, but I work eight hours a day with little kids and I need to sleep! I mentioned that one night it sounded like a dresser going over and if I had heard one more noise I would have called the cops. (which is true) He told me to feel free, I had his blessing (that's a HOOT) to call the police anytime. He would call #3 right away, and get to the bottom of it. I am his pal you know, and I should feel free to call him anytime! Oh, and we talked about the issue of their chain smoking up there. You should see the blue smoke in our entryway, it's disgusting. #1 is an old lady on oxygen and I am allergic to cigarette smoke. Landlord says he's telling them to take it outside from now on. We'll see how far that flies.

So then I finished the movie, took a shower, and now I'm here talking to you. Trying to think of a plan for the rest of the evening. Lazy Sundays usually end for me at 1 am. I was just saying to Brown Eyes last Sunday, the last night he slept here, that he really had to start going in to work earlier. Midnight is too late for cheeseburgers. Careful what you wish for.