It's Sunday. I hate Sundays. Everyone else seems to love Sunday, but not me. Even as a small child, I always dreaded this day of the week. I believe it is because it always ends up being a day where there's too much time to think about things. Maybe I should just take a long nap and forget it all, although I've never been one that wanted to sleep all day (thought it was a big waste of precious time). Lately, however, I think it might be the best solution to this terrible state of depression I seem to be spiraling down into.

On a lighter note, I plan to write a short story, paint a watercolor picture, and find a different house for me and my cats to live in this Spring. Will I end up the little, old, reclusive woman who lives alone with her cats? Hmmmmm?

s hamilton

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