A Bowl of Cherries

Monday is a hard day for me. Sunday is taken over by the horrible anxiety I used to feel on Sunday nights as a kid, wondering if my math homework was right or not (it usually wasn’t). There’s not quite so much on the line now as an adult: I get to order my day as I like, and I’m no longer humiliated when I have to ask for math help. But I grind myself down through the Monday with ridiculously productive intentions in response to the anxiety. I’m really glad the day is over, because I'm tired (and I've brought too much work home with me, but at least I can do it in my pajamas).

I know I'm not the only person who does this sort of thing... there must be millions of schoolchildren learning bad work habits who will carry them on into their adult work life. At least I don't watch TV while I pretend to do my homework, anymore.

I’ve come home to a pleasantly cool house, no hairballs on the floor, and no one but me and the cats to enjoy it all. A sweet pile of cherries and the unfinished weekend papers is a great way to relax. I'm already feeling better.