"Solutions are not the answer."

(Richard Nixon said that. Honest.)

I have nothing interesting to say today. My head hurts, and I'm stuffed. The cat's asleep, the apartment's too warm, and I'm bored. No, wait, I don't get bored. There's always too much to do. Can you possibly get bored from having too much to do? Boredom is a luxury, I think, reserved for those who have time for it.

Sundays are a blur. I always have big plans for Sundays, because they're all mine, and there's precious little that I have to do. I can improvise. Relationships are great, but they put a serious strain on your Sundays. You're expected to be romantic on Sundays - eat lunch together, go for a walk, see a movie, have dinner... All well and good, but it leaves very little room for anything else.

Right, yes, I'm trying to feel good about being alone. But, honestly, it does have its advantages! Honestly.

Sundays, then, are usually filled with Big Plans, but they often come to naught, because I'm usually dead exhausted, and I end up doing very little at all. Today, for example, I was supposed to write. This, now, is the sum total of my writing. Sad, really. Granted, it was a nice day, and I spent large chunks of it under a blue sky, but still.

It's not over yet - this Sunday - so I'll click post & publish, and get cracking. Really, I will.  ¶ 22:41