The Lazy Sundays

Tis that day of the week when you crawl out of bed when it’s longer time for breakfast but a late brunch. Hangover or not, it depends on what you were up to the night before. I once got up early on a Sunday (rare exception to my rules). I decided I was going to the farmer’s market to get some fresh produce to cook a homemade brunch with all the trimmings. It turns out nothing is open before 11 on Sundays (except from Euphorium Bakery, lucky break). That is something a Lazy Sunday person like me would never, ever know.

But the Sunday pattern is almost always the same: waking up (way) after 11.30, having eggs and coffee,  reading newspapers and magazines, all that at home or at the local cafe in the company of good friends.

The Lazy Sunday pattern also includes plans for the weeks to come: plans to visit museums and exhibitions (which are almost surely never going to be fulfilled) and plans to start eating more healthily and join the gym (which have even less chances to be fulfilled).

The Lazy Sundays are probably the most unproductive days of them all and therefore they’re greatly appreciated when you’ve had the week from hell and you’re content with doing nothing for a change. They can cause great frustration though when you’re hit with emotions of uselessness that make you feel like a big pathetic slob.

Like today, that I’ve done nothing else but¬†mindlessly¬†surf the web (that expression sounds so old-fashioned now, doesn’t it?) and browse at blogs for most of this Lazy Sunday morning. Highlights of my explorations so far: The Sartorialist’s Mary Kate photo. I’m absolutely in love with the photo and the outfit. Carl Kleiner’s photos for IKEA. Amazing idea.

I like the Lazy Sundays a lot. I was actually thinking that if I had a band, that’s how I would like to call it. It turns out the name is sort of taken. ūüė¶

To be continued…

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