At one point a friend who lives alone said that Sundays are the worst. Our author did not understand this for a long time. Now she knows exactly why.
It's 8:30 on Sunday. I'm awake. It's gray outside. I know that even without pulling up my blind. Presumably it's drizzling, because it always drizzles here when it's gray. So I adjust my pillow, turn around and try to ignore the fact that Sunday has just started and I have no idea how to get it over. But instead of falling asleep again, I stare at the wall behind which the neighbors' children are playing wild games – already bright and cheerful.
Sunday – a day in hell
When I asked what the worst thing about being single was, a friend answered me: Sundays. I did not understand it, after all, Sundays were not really relevant in our family life, except that the day after is Monday and thus the beginning of a new, stressful week. I didn't know then that a few months later I would say to her on the phone: “You're right, Sunday is the day from hell.” Or in hell, because that's how the first Sundays felt like being single Mom on.
As if you just cut off a part
There were four of us the last few years. Now I'm either alone or there are three of us. It's funny and sad, because somehow someone is always missing. I spend the time with the children, we do a lot, visit friends, we make things as good as we can. The time alone, on the other hand, feels, at least at least, terrible. Because by the end of their thirties, most of them are in permanent partnerships and have a house, family, cat and dog. People like to sit on the sofa on Sundays, watch one series after the other or be out and about with the kids. Of course, there is always a free place for me on my friends' couch, but sorry, even I feel very strange. While they are enjoying their couple time or family life, it feels to me as if mine had been cut away and waved the missing part with a sardonic grin in front of my nose.
Between world with hot water bottle
But completely detached from these feelings of loneliness: I often thought Sunday was funny before. The day is neither half nor whole. It's the end of the week, but it's not really the weekend either, because you already have one leg on Monday – which I currently really like. In summer it may still be okay, but in autumn and winter … ?! Nobody goes out voluntarily. Most of them shut themselves up instead of doing something. "Chill and rest", the quintessence when I ask couples who are friends if they want to go out on something, "Do laundry, clear up chaos and maybe even rest", that of befriended parents – and that is granted to everyone from the heart! But I? First I have to learn what to do with yourself on this acidic day, without constantly bothering other families with my presence or tormenting myself with my thoughts of the past. It's okay to be alone, but I'm often lonely on Sundays. Maybe I'll be able to do that someday: Netflixen all Sunday – with my hot water bottle in my arms. How many hot water bottles are sitting behind other doors on the sofa?