Sunday Night Blahs

When I was a kid I used to get incredibly, ridiculously anxious on Sunday nights. God's Day 'O Rest...homework left to the last minute...Emily King laughing at my Boy George t-shirt in front of the entire cheer-leading squad...not sure why. But I would do things like rearrange my room, make the bed, get completely dressed for school and THEN go to sleep...oh so carefully as to not mess up the throw pillows or my hair. Like laying down onto a $4 raft in a kiddie pool with a wave machine. But that way, all I had to do was wake up and brush my teeth! Very efficient I thought. Until once at three in the morning my mother came in for some reason...I think the vacuum woke her...and the expression on her face illustrated the abnormalcy I was portraying.

I look back on little habits I had as a child, talking to 'God' who I believed was in the air conditioner, conversing with myself in the mirror for hours on end in the evening at bath time, my 'scientific experiments' that I hid under the bathroom sink which usually involved a body fluid (just fluid) and cleaning products...and I think 1. maybe I was kind of weird and lonely, 2. I was really creative and interested in EVERYTHING and had to find ways to hide it, or 3. I was kind of weird and lonely. I did have a lot of friends though.

I don't stay up all night on Sundays practicing how to fold a love note to Mike Norwood...anymore...which would be really strange since I haven't seen him since the third grade...but I do feel that left-over anxiety. "This is the end of something and the beginning of another."

Opportunity?

Sometimes I think we think too much.

I just realized the irony of typing that.

I truly suspect people with Downs Syndrome have the secret. I DO NOT mean this as a joke or in any offensive, disrespectful manner. What little I know of what we have decided as a society is an affliction - this syndrome, I find really beautiful and simple.

I should start a soft ball team.