Greetings and Salutations.
If you're reading this you've survived the Sunday Lull.
Quizzical look upon you're face?
Allow me to explain.
On any given Sunday, and especially ones in the summer, there is a tide that rolls in.
A change in the pace of the day. It happens like clockwork, between 3pm- 5:30pm. In my neighborhood it's audible.
Lawn mowers are moved out of the mainstays, and weed wackers will take another week off.
It's time to wind down, settle down, and get ready for the week.
All trips to Target have to be made, and don't even think about going to a movie.
Dinner will be served before 7 o'clock, because dining out doesn't happen on Sundays.
Laundry continues to linger, and there are lunches to be made.
There's absolutely no time to just hang out in the shade.
Have I mentioned, I may have spent the better part of this life fighting off the Sunday Lull?
For several years as a boat owner, we spent every Sunday skiing on the lake, and slapping back cocktails. It's actually frightening to think about how many bottles we emptied in that boat. And Thankfully, through it all, I had a friend, that boat or no boat, we have still remained bikini besties.
So do me a favor next Sunday.
Weather you're wishing you weren't working, or on top a Tiki bar twerking, Give Monday the middle finger and Celebrate the Sunday Lull.