Oh good grief! Every day’s a perfect Sunday for me!
Of course, I have this niggling suspicion that I’m a deeply unhappy person; unhappy with my life, unhappy with my family, unhappy with the world, but generally, everyday comes with it’s own stuff attached.
I think this question makes sense to people for whom, different lives are lived…work life, home life, relaxing life…like that. I…well…all these things are rolled up into one for me. Even spiritual life is no-longer a Sunday deal…I’m at the Kumaris Center tonight.
I DO remember Sunday’s as being family day. Into the station-wagon, off to church, Kentucky Fried Chicken. Understand. This was 70s Kenya. It was either that, or do-it-yourself, which my father often did.
A perfect Sunday?
I keep thinking, you know, if I had a lover…but then, what would we do? How would that make it a Perfect Sunday? Perhaps, if I were a Grandad, a healthy day, and a visit from the kids. Ya. That would do it.
A friend, I suppose.
And a wallet full of money, lots of beer and a free Monday.
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