What IS it about Sunday night?
And then, of course, there’s Monday morning:
Doesn’t seem to matter how much you love your life.
Or how late you stay up. Here they come again.
I suppose that it is just the twinge of sadness and mild panic we get for all things that must end.
And there’s the surprised irony–that we get a second chance to repeat the whole megillah again, come morning.
Oh. We are funny bunnies.
* * *
Wishing you the sweetest of Sunday nights. I will catch you on the flip side.
Leaving you with a few of my evening-themed seranades.
Sleep tight. Don’t let ’em bite. And may you enjoy the dawn.