I hate Sundays.
You work damn hard all week and look forward to the weekend. Friday nights are great, a whole two work-free days lie ahead and you can forget the woes of work for a while. Until Sunday...
I'm typing this entry just after 9.00pm on Sunday and I'm already thinking about meetings at work tomorrow and the rest of the week and what needs doing in the days that lie ahead. It's at this time that the burning embers of the weekend begin to smoulder - it just seems like hours since it was Friday night - and you set the alarm to go off at a God awful early time on Monday morning, when it's still dark, cold and miserable and five days hard graft lie ahead.
And the weather forecast for tomorrow is snow...
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