Have I mentioned I hate Sundays before? I still do. Not exactly for the same reasons as I’ve said before, although I still do waste most of my day doing nothing productive (and when I am productive, I get no sense of satisfaction from it any more).
No, now it’s because I live alone and everyone I know seems to have a family or significant other they can spend their Sunday with. And I don’t. I’m OK with living alone, I’m just sick of being alone.
And I’m sick of being sick of being alone, if that makes any sense whatsoever.
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