Working in retail, which I misguidedly do.
And teaching on one of my weekend days, which I do under protest,
means that sunday, that day of sweet laziness, is all I get at the moment.
And even though I'm usually finishing off a lecture to give the next day or eek, beginning said lecture, I still have the Sunday love.
Today I love,
My boyfriend getting confirmation that he has got his new, highly desired, job.
Ptolemy trying to get into the world in the mirrors, again.
Sleeping in after wine induced coma-like status.
The sunshine, oh, lovely last rays of summer sunshine.
The roast I plan to cook for dinner.
And eat in front of my favourite Sunday activity, Sunday ABC television, which is new Poirot! (I heart Agatha Cristie, way too much.)
Going to bed feeling like I had a weekend, despite the awful Yum Cha last night, despite me writing a lecture for a good chunk of the day, despite the feeling like I'll never stop being busy again.
Ah Sunday, you day of magical powers and brownies and all.