Sundays...

...have taken on a comforting, regular form. They start out relaxed but not lazy (at least not too lazy). I am aware of both the holiday and the inevitable Monday. I do the laundry, mop up the floors in my room, inhale the fragrance of cleaning sprays and oil essences. The radio murmurs in the background, a reliable companion. The laundry tumbles out warm and fluffy; I bury my head in it for a few minutes, comforting myself in the leftover warmth before it evaporates.






I then decide on what I want to cook for the week. Usually it is a time when no one else is in the house, so the kitchen is all mine. All my disasters, splatters and success are mine. Occasionally I open the window to prevent setting off our (rather sensitive) fire alarm. In the background I like to listen to last week's On Being episode. Cooking and reflecting on life seem to go well in hand. From my no-cooking days when I moved to Minneapolis I have now started to find cooking relaxing. I've taken to prepping food for the entire school week. That way I know I will have food, I don't have to worry about making tiffins at night or in the morning, and I don't spend too much money on eating out.

Time always flies faster than I wish it would. I try not to go out unless something special is going on. It feels calming to have a day at home. I think of it as a sort of unclenching. Sometimes I get to Skype home and I thank the universe that I was born in the time I was. To be able to see faces makes all the difference in the world, no matter how patchy the connection. I try and finish the day with something fun, like catching up on Netflix, reading for fun. The lack of excitement and nail-biting tension that is a regular in the weeks leading up to graduation, is missing on Sundays and life is all the better for it. Even as I try and get things done so that the week doesn't start on a note too awful, I try and remind myself that the years fly by and pausing every once in a while is not just nice, but also necessary.