the new sunday night sickness

February 22, 2009 Candace Morris 2 Comments

Sundays are spent at Joel's parents in Maple Valley, a beautiful 45-min drive from downtown Seattle. We lounge, nap, play xbox (not me), watch movies, eat mom's food, read books, play with the puppies, and do laundry. In general, it's my familial form of sabbath. However, once 9pm roles around, someone usually whines about having "SNS: Sunday Night Sickness."

SNS is the ultimate feeling of dread as the conclusion of the weekend falls upon your relaxed soul and tightens up the knots in your stomach. Its symptoms are general nausea associated selling your soul to the devil in order to make money in America. It can also present in feelings of disgust, irritation, malaise, and fatigue. In fact, quite often, SNS has been known to keep a girl in bed on Monday morning.

As I am now currently aimlessly unemployed, I thought I would no longer be chronically tormented by SNS.

i was wrong.

But this time, SNS is different. I do feel the posthumous poison of that old job leaking out of my system, but now it seems replaced by a new kind of sickness.

I would like to call this sickness
perhaps OMGWAIGTOT for short?

In an attempt to assuage this gnawing question, and since a lot of people are asking, the floodgates of answers open wide and my "to-do" list becomes a mathematical phenomenon of exponential growth. I have morphed SNS into a new chain of diseased DNA.

OMGWAIGTOT is somewhat unfamiliar to me (though I can now remember its presence on summer breaks, christmas breaks, and vacations) but so far, its presence may look something like me taking out my iphone or small booklet while in the car and start making lists, then making lists of those lists, and then lists on how to incorporate those lists. Typically, I do this until joel lovingly reminds, "hon. you're gonna get car, what you doin' tomorrow!?"


SNS presented in various questions: I concerned myself with my weekly wardrobe, nightly meals to cook, balance of social schedule vs work schedule, anxiety of going to a job for which i was underpaid and overqualified, general irritation at the condescension of working in support, and a nagging existential loneliness that I was doing the opposite of what I was made for...etc.

OMGWAIGTOT seems to present simpler questions:
  • What movies will I see this week?
  • What book will I read this week?
  • When will I repaint my nails?
  • When will I schedule 5 long-distance phone calls I need to return?
  • Will I wear anything but jeans?
  • Should I sell all my slacks in order to buy more jeans?
  • Will I even get dressed?
  • What time will I get up?
  • Will I get up?
  • Will I wash my hair?
But the real question:
can i really afford these simplicities?
isn't life supposed to be busy and complicated and overwhelming?
and if i cannot be busy and complicated and overwhelming,
will i busy myself trying to be complicated and overwhelming?

For me,
The unknown has always been worse than the predictability of a day.
Since I am no longer experiencing predictable days,
I am more and more planning ahead so as to provide such things for myself.

Living in the future is not something I need to encourage in myself, dears.

Let's turn out the lights.
Slip into the scalding clean of hot baths.
Plan our outfits for tomorrow.
Pack our lunches and preset our coffeemakers.
and remember that
no one

(even the employed).

And isn't that kind of beautiful in a:
crying at the oscars,
throw-caution-to-the-wind Tice,
baby's cheeks
kind of way?

ending Sunday night before it ends me,

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