There is something indescribable about Sundays.
Maybe it's because it starts with church.
Honestly, this morning was a doozy until I went to church. "Accidentally" falling back asleep after the alarm went off, making me in more of a rush than I'd prefer. Letting myself believe the myth that there was just nothing in my closet at all to wear...completely false reality. Dropping the mascara wand on either my face or the alarm clock or the mirror or my pants not once, or twice, but a whopping three times... Having to change my outfit and looking at the clock that read 9:23 and realizing the 9:30 mass we were planning to go to that takes 15 minutes to get to was probably not going to happen.
"Now, wait," you think, "I thought I was going to read about why you love Sundays?"
Ya, getting to that...
I flat out told my husband as he entered our room, fully dressed, in a jacket, ready to walk out the door at 9:15--"This morning sucks." Immediately, being the wonderful and patient man he is, Brandon starts searching on his phone for masses in the area that start at 10 so that I don't have to feel so rushed. Seriously, who deserves a husband this great?
Mass was definitely the avenue which completely changed my day around; as receiving the body, soul, spirit and divinity of Jesus should, of course. The sermon and music were helpful, too.
Sundays are incredible because somehow they feel more relaxing than Saturdays. Today, after the revitalization of church, we felt no obligations of time or energy. We knew we wanted to rent The Help because I had just finished reading it on Friday. We ended up dedicating much driving time going from RedBox to RedBox finding this particular movie (did I mention my husband in patient?) At Hy-Vee, we found ourselves buying a "celebratory" dinner to make this evening, including a great bottle of chianti, in gratitude that our offer on a house was accepted. We also bought frozen loaves of bread. (because this girl has never, ever even attempted making bread, so we figured this was a good place to start!)
Sunday means that we can make coffee without a time schedule, watch a movie (a great one, in fact!) in the middle of the day, and cook dinner together. Sunday means that the house can be picked up, and snooping around pinterest doesn't bring me guilt. Sunday means "Once Upon a Time" is on and I can squeal and gasp at the tv for an entire hour.
Thank you, Sunday, for bringing so much joy to this cold apartment of ours.