I do not understand what is happening today ...
It's like a blanket covering me with his giant hands and not leave me out of bed, but not let me sleep peacefully. Sometimes the opposite happens to me, I rise like a sleepwalker at 6 am as if it would work, but slow and heavy, that's when I start watching TV, thinking about the immortality of the crab, to daydream , to divine the future and remembering the past because the present is lost in a sagging mattress thrown on my way. That's when I remember ... "Today is Sunday."
begin to find something good on the screen and nothing! The worst of the worst: old series of the season when my grandmother was pure, virginal and pure. The chapters that I know by heart of El Chavo, and the song "chirinchirinchunflay" the boring House on the Prairie and perpetual llorantina the unique vocabulary cartoons indigo children "friend this new ultrasound machine is Fantabulous" documentaries of the blessed lion eating a zebra, the Casa de Lucy taught to knit a sweater cross stitch and pods pure useless.
I get up. I try to exercise, but the body is as sharp in a deep slumber. It feels so weird because no path, no flight, just the opposite. I open the window and it is as if the sun also jumped into the break, the shadows cloud the day, the wind asks permission to blow, but does not blow.
My mother just said: Sundays one does not find or do. Another. Join the club. It is the day I hate most is neither Saturday nor is Monday, is not resting which I enjoy, or work that concerns me. I do not know what reed is.
remember that's where I want to buy a case for the chastisement of my peace (phone) that both use it and throw it when I have stress, it is already verging on poor. But the shops are closed. I want a really big cake of dark chocolate and greasy, creamy and bursting, but the bakeries are closed. I checked after three failed attempts, when I arrived at last, there is only strawberry. No! It is a day unlucky, those who feel a black cloud over you. My sister Elialmy
today said three times: Sundays pulled me by the hair, I'm thinking who could stretch the hair that poor girl, I still think her hair in her hair and make me angry again it is Sunday . I see it as desperate, you want to do all beauty treatments idler of this world, broke a raw egg on the head, after a circus show for it. Applause and laughter. Then, like crazy, put your feet in warm water to get a pedicure, put various creams on the face is massaged all over and placed a bag over her hair. And understand it, today is Sunday.
I entered the internet, I open my favorite pages and leave. I repeat the same ritual two or three times, on Sundays I write or read one post surprisingly, almost no news. I note that journalists are too lazy Sunday.
On Sunday I have to think about which jacket I'll use tomorrow, what I have hanging on the job. On Sunday I realize that I have the dirty laundry of the reviews I have to correct. Causes me to kill pests. Sunday
And this feeling is not now, is very old, I remember my childhood Sundays were so boring that my dad, and I took a trip to a mountain course of guerrillas and was the same sad and empty grove ever, after going to mass, eat an ice cream flavor in the only Village ice cream only after walking returned to a boulevard where only bushes and I was sitting in the middle watching the trickle down of the source, which was sometimes no water, it still haunts me ... karma
Today is the day I bath soap up longer and me to fill the bath foam. I read the newspapers, I reread. Like and recommend. I review old pictures, singing songs, I feel like going to church and I'm not, I just want to call my friends and not call. Heat is heat, the boredom is more of a nuisance, what the hell go on Sundays. We become silent. The gestures do not even come out, we look down, we know. What I do on Sundays than see my family and be on the computer? Which incidentally is the only thing I like about Sunday. I do a thousand things, and I still have time. I'm in the car and I'm looking for something more fun, I find, is worse than a fever, vomiting, diarrhea and dengue together.
Puto pútil Sunday Sunday Sunday best putácea reputation!. Do not know what rude is that, but I would like to add more sound every Sunday I hate. Even the words
me out, safe on Monday, I become more lucid and bright, if not liked this post, sorry, I forgive excusing myself because today is nothing more than a Sunday. The good thing is that it is night and I wish with all my heart Quick arrives tomorrow and go back to being who I am. I'm going to sleep. Tomorrow will be better ...
"Puto putil Sunday Sunday Sunday best putacea reputation." Hahaha. How did this happen to me? Hahaha. Definivitamente'm crazy, my domingofobia product.
