In my ideal world that kinda only exist in my brain, of which sometimes I think is off on its own little adventure that I can’t keep up with, my ideal Sunday would go something like this.
Getting up at a respectable time of 8.30 or 9am, after a night of fantastically absurd dreams.
Willingly. Not because I have somewhere to be or something to see to
My sheets smell like freshly laundered and pressed cotton, I roll around in it for a while more for good measure before rolling out of bed.
Admittedly motivated by the fact that there is brunch to be had.
Brunch. Oh how I love thee. Poached eggs, Grilled portobello mushrooms, Homemade hashbrowns, Sausages, Grilled tomatoes, Yoghurt with muesli, Perfectly toasted bread with butter.
And maybe a mouthful of nutella.
Catching up on absolutely useless yet highly interesting things on flipboard while enjoying the comfortable background noise of the television that no one watches in particular on a lovely sunday morning.
Of course, the weather is fantastic. Sunlight with breeze and the perfect lack of humidity putting people in a absolutely happy and non irritable mood. Comfortable enough to wear a light jacket yet enjoy shorts with bare legs to soak up as much sunlight as possible.
When that’s done, we walk to church and and enjoy service like it should be done, with the message being absolutely what I needed to hear that morning. And that sense of gratefulness, love, peace, joy and promise that I feel, leaving with me when I step out of those and staying with me throughout the week. Yeah I love that.
After that, the grocery store, supermarket, whatevs, to stroll through the aisles to buy essentials for the week. Yes, in my ideal world I still am responsible and shop for groceries(; And also because I love doing so. Who cares what I need and what I want heh, I would be happy to look up aisles of toilet paper to gourmet cheese that is too stinky to eat. Rows of cereal, rows of pasta sauce, rows of ice cream, rows of baking supplies. I could go all day.
I finally get what I want and treat myself to a few of the needs. Home it is. Maybe a frozen yoghurt in hand. Ok, definitely.
Again, this is still all ideal and hypothetical, so someone will unpack all my groceries and stash them away in their respective places in the fridge and cabinets. And I will turn on the telly, curl up and watch my favourite dramas, or a chickflick.
5.30pm. Head out for a 5km run along an imaginary river where people do watersports like dragonboating and kayaking and I run along the footpath taking in the sights and smelling the flowers and impending summertime.
(not my picture)
Reach home, I can smell dinner cooking and it is heavenly. After a hot hot shower, I take a moment, sit, and eat glorious food. No phones, no internets, no tv’s, no ebooks, nothing. Just me, chewing, tasting every bite, every flavour, savouring.
Then there is dessert. Fresh seasonal fruit. And a square, ok two squares of chocolate.
And we watch a movie, and talk, and laugh, and talk some more. And prepare to face the five days that is ahead. And laugh about the stupidity of this happening every week. But at this point, I am happy. That’s all I need.
Then we sleep at a respectable time that is not 3.30am which is now.