I don’t write on Sundays

I don’t write on Sundays. Much. I don’t write on Sundays much. I can’t issue a blanket denial since today is a Sunday but generally, I take the day off. I may jot down an idea or an opening sentence but for the most part, I give writing and social media a rest.

It’s not a religious thing, it’s a “take a break” thing. It’s a “you’re allowed to take a day off, you’re allowed to have a break, you don’t have to justify your existence and make every moment meaningful” kind of thing.

It’s also difficult. Especially the social media part. What if something happens? What if there’s an oil spill or a shooting or a Kardashian does something?

I spend a great deal of mental energy arguing with myself over productivity and value. As in, do I bring enough value to the world? Am I doing enough? Have I earned my air today?

Where did this idea that every second needs to be productive and meaningful come from, anyway?

I have other things that I try not to do on Sundays as well (in the interest of full disclosure, it is perhaps easier for me to have a day of rest and do-nothingness since I’m on disability and don’t have a full-time, Monday to Friday job. I do consider that I work, however, since I write).

I try not to do housework. I try not to do yardwork. I try not to read significant books. I try not to get drawn into drama. I try not to feel guilty about setting aside some time just for me.

Sunday is my day to relax and just be, to do the things I enjoy, things that make me feel easy in my skin.

I wonder why I only allow myself one day a week like that?

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