Sunday, August 12, 2007

Sunday Bloody Sunday

It's Sunday night, and I'm feeling a little sick to my stomach. Was it the ham and maple baked beans? Some gastro I picked up in the ER? No. It's simply that it's Sunday night, and I have to go to work tomorrow.

I don't know why I get this way, but I can tell you, it's nothing new. I remember feeling like this as a little kid. We'd be driving back from yet another Sunday dinner at my grandparents' house, and I'd be strapped into the back seat, staring out into the dark, listening to 80's ballads playing on the radio. As much as I love the song now, I still get a bit nauseated when I hear "Don't Dream It's Over" by Crowded House. Sunday night would trigger an increased heart rate, a drop in the pit of the stomach... because I had to go back to school the next day. The weekend fun was over, the drudgery of math class, piano lessons and homework was beginning anew. And I was someone who liked school (and did well in math class). Can't say I ever liked those piano lessons, but that's a whole other topic.

But I'm an adult now, with the freedom to make my own decisions about what to do with my time, with (finally) a real job, and without 4 pages of times-tables to complete before tomorrow. Yet every Sunday, it feels exactly like I'm heading back to roll call the next morning, and I dread the hours before the weekday starts.

I find it curious that I hate Sunday night so much, because there are a whole bunch of reasons I could choose to like it.

For one, it signals the start of a new week. The troubles of the previous week are left behind (well, except all the lab reports generated from previous office visits). Patient yelled at me? Whatever! Drunk guy tried to spit in my face? OK. Hypotensive patient tried to die in the OR? So last Wednesday.

Counter to this dislike of Sunday night is the fact that it should be the best part of the weekend. The grocery shopping has been done, the gym has been visited, the weekend plans completed. Time to sit back and relax. Time to watch the Magical World of Disney or Desperate Housewives. By spending the night worrying, I'm cheating myself out of some quality down time.

However, the most compelling reason for me to start liking Sunday night is that I'm worrying for nothing. It takes all of 3 minutes for me to get settled back into work Monday morning. If I'm doing clinic, I grab a cup of coffee, sit at my desk and flip through those lab reports, and think to myself, "This really isn't so bad after all."

I think it's time to take back Sunday night. I'm going to go make some hot chocolate and watch a re-run of Desperate Housewives (yes, we do have cable in Iqaluit) and enjoy the simple fact that I have a tomorrow to look forward to. And no math homework.

2 comments:

Elaine said...

To my eternal shame, I used to love maths homework........

Anyway, you really look like you are going to get Sunday nights back soon.

Liana said...

I don't like Sunday nights either. Boo.