Weekends are funny things.
They can be both wonderful and frustrating at the same time. I have a bad habit of letting the last few hours of a weekend get to me. No matter how productive I've been, how much fun I've had, how much I've savored and relished each moment of the days, I can't seem to help being in a funky mood once the Sunday-afternoon downtime kicks in.
Suddenly, every second I'm on the couch becomes an audible tick on the clock, counting down to Monday morning and the return to "real life". I'm paralyzed by a storm cloud of panic about every aspect of my life and whether I'm making the most out of every moment of it.
(Oh hi, quarter-life crisis. I see you're still here.)
If you're reading this hoping I've found a solution, I haven't. Since my What am I doing with my life? dilemma isn't going to fix itself overnight, I'm resigned to the fact that one of its side effects - my Sunday night ennui - is going to be recurring for a while. So I have to go with the next best thing: not beating myself up over it. Whatever I'm doing - going for a walk, catching up on Netflix, munching on a peanut butter cup or two, writing a blog post - it is what it is. It's the weekend.
Do you find yourself with the Sunday night blues? What do you do?
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