And here it is again!

I love Sundays, and I'll tell you why.

In my diminutive mind, I always regard Sunday as the last day of the week (a sentiment most people share, I reckon), which means it's when most people start getting anxious for dreading to go to work the next day; all the while at the back of my mind I always have to remind myself it's actually the 1st. The beginning.

Ignorant as I am, spending Sundays in my tiny room is heavenly. The sun, the blue sky, my dying plant, my stack of unread books, my soft fluffy pillow, the buses, the buildings and the greenery, the fog, my neighbors...oh, how thankful I am!

Alas, Sundays also mean procrastination, long naps, slow meals, lazy butt, and a plain waste of time. Pls, help me.