A Love Letter to Sunday
pancakes, dutch doors, and the dishwasher i'm trying not to jinx.
My husband won me over with an itinerary.
I hate an itinerary.
A schedule on my day off feels like a threat, places I have to be, and outfits I have to coordinate. But this wasn’t your typical itinerary.
It was a love letter for a Sunday.
There were no 11:00 AM brunch reservations or “must-see” exhibits. It was just us: wandering the aisles of a supermarket, buying pancake mix, and coming home to lose three hours to a movie we’d both already seen. An oversized T-shirt, unbrushed hair, Vitamin D kind of day.
If I hadn’t already known he was the one, that promise of a slow supermarket stroll would have done it.
I think about that letter a lot lately, mostly because my Sundays aren’t slow anymore. They are a high-speed chase against the Monday Scaries. A chaotic “reset” where I’m not actually resting, I’m just preparing to be productive later. I’ve traded park sandwiches and kitchen dance moves for the optimized weekend, where every hour is a move in a game of chess against my own burnout.
It’s the idea that if I just prep enough, if I just “get ahead” of the week, I’ll finally earn the right to exist without an agenda.
But things don’t slow down; you just have to choose to. That’s the whole secret, and also the hardest part. Peace isn’t a reward you get at the end of a to-do list; it’s the thing you have to claim while the house is still a mess.
As Sunday finally comes to a close, I’m choosing the movie I’ve already seen. I’m choosing the pancakes.
If you’re reading this and you’re not quite ready to hand yourself over to Monday, same. The pressure doesn’t just turn off because I wrote a Substack about it.
But I think rest isn’t the reward. I think it’s the whole point. Even if it doesn’t always feel that way.
New month, new week, and we’re all just on a spinning rock anyway. Do one thing this week that’s just for you. Even a small one.
Oh, and Wednesday is..
Coming Soon: The Pink Moon
Named after Phlox subulata, the first flowers brave enough to bloom before spring is ready for them. Blooming doesn’t have to be a big event. Sometimes, it’s simply refusing to wait for perfect conditions.
A burnt maple latte, I’ve been making every morning. French cheese paper & a handful of other very specific, super niche things for spring. Oh, and a “Buy Once” addition I’ve been sitting on for three years. I refused to say anything until I was certain it wasn’t just a passing phase.
I’m sure.