There’s nothing quite like waking up slowly on a Sunday morning to the sugary smell of summertime. Unless you’re anything like me, of course, and you jolt awake only to find its 6 am.
I usually wake up already feeling I’ve been wasting time. There is so much I should be doing. I’ve lived like a fugitive to many shoulds, one of them being measurable time (most of my shackles are measurable actually, come to think of it). There’s something extra anxiety-provoking about the silence of unstructured mornings. Their emptiness can feel idle, unproductive and… scary.
I’ve learned to notice my stillness and I’m starting to love those moments of simplicity.
I slept in this morning. I relished in the slow laziness of a cup o’ joe, exploring blogland, listening to a favourite album… This is what I should be doing. It is Sunday, after all.
I also have a rocking cereal cupboard that, if nothing else, deserves to be properly realized.
How do you spend Sunday mornings?