While I do enjoy an occasional Sunday Funday Cubs game or drinking with friends, my Sundays are usually reserved for so much more. I thought I would let you all in on the true meaning of what a Sunday is supposed to be...lazy and magical.
9 am: Wake up and realize what time it is, and go back to sleep because why the fuck are you up at 9 am on a Sunday?
Noon: Wake up again only because you have to pee. Do so, remove pants, and return to bed.
12:30 pm: Check all forms of social media and delete every un-flattering photo you thought looked , "OMG so cute!" last night. Thanks a heap, vodka.
1 pm: Time for breakfast: String cheese, 47 Teddy Grahams, a piece of beef jerky, and a handful of blue cheese olives.
1:10 pm: Turn on the TV and watch re-runs of Boy Meets World or Saved by the Bell and wonder why they just don't make quality children's shows like they used to.
1:30 pm: Spend the next two hours googling all your favorite former child stars to see where they are now (Shawn Hunter is still a babe, while Judy Winslow is turning tricks on film).
3:30 pm: Too much activity. Take a three to four hour nap.
7:00 pm: Dinner time. Spend at least a hour on Grub Hub. Can't decide what to order. Settle on Ramen since it takes 3 minutes, and you are about ready to eat your cat.
8:00 pm: Time to watch vampire porn aka "True Blood."
9:00 pm: Think about taking a shower, but decide it is too much effort. No one is around to smell you anyway.
9:05 pm: Decide to start watching a new TV series on Netflix.
2:00 am: One more episode...
3:40 am: Get into bed and cry yourself to sleep since you have to be at work in a few hours.
Another successful Sunday.