Sunday, August 24, 2008

Disturb my peace. Please.

I live on a fairly main road, wedged nosily between railroad tracks and a catholic church that enjoys nothing better then ringing its bells for a good solid 2 minutes every Sunday morning.

During the summer months, the tinkling bells of an ice cream truck have also joined in on the fun.

Jay complains, most specifically about the church bells that show no intention of stopping as they interrupt his sleep on a weekly basis.

I don't mind. The first echoing bell will sometimes jar me from my sleep, but it never lasts long. I can sleep through anything, and quite frequently do.

For as long as I can remember, I've come to hate Sundays. I used to go to the movies by myself every Sunday after work, as I could never find anything else to do, and sitting alone at home became depressing.

Add my financial state to the mix, and Sundays become even more dull. It's a beautiful day outside, and I itch for a roadtrip, a bike ride... I'd even accept being cooped up indoors at a museum or something of the like. Alas I can afford none of the above.

This is my last weekend before school starts. My last free weekend without homework and commitments.

I'd have liked it to be more special then this.

(Even as I type these words I am struck with the thought, 'I am REALLY sick of feeling sorry for myself all the time'. But I just can't seem to feel any other way.)

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