This weekend was quiet, with not a lot of plans, except the ones in my head. That mostly stay right there.
Sundays are such weird days, I think.
I just read in an Alain de Botton tweet: 'Sunday angst is trying in its own confused way to tell you something worth listening to: you must change your life'.
That is exactly what Sunday does to me:
Every week I consider Monday morning as a new start. By Monday morning 8 AM, most of these plans have disappeared again and real life takes over, waiting for another Sunday to re-appear.
Excuse me for this pseudo-philosophical note :)
Is it weekend yet, so we can be ourselves again,
in our little 3L Syndrome cocoon?
