I Hate Sundays

I hate Sundays.

After a whole weekend of being able to snuggle up to Ty, pass some Whimzy duties off to him, tell him stupid jokes, kiss him whenever I want, and make him find things for me,

he has to return to work on Sundays.

We spent most of this past weekend in our pj's, on the couch, all cuddled up and playing with Whimzy.  When we did have to put real clothes on, it was to grocery shop or spend a couple hours out to eat with good friends and family.

It was, essentially, a perfect weekend.  I would have not changed a single thing.

Then, this morning we cleaned and really made up for the fact that we really did not do anything productive all weekend.

Then, he had to leave.

And that ^ is the face and reaction that Whimzy has every, single time Ty gets ready to go to work.

I feel the same way, but I have to be all grown-up and kiss him good-bye and then wish him a good night at work.

 

So, yeah, I hate Sundays. 

I hate the drop back into reality, and I hate missing Ty.

 

 

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