ever since my year in Italy Sundays always get me down. one entire day where nothing is open and all doors close you out. surely there was the occasional little tourist trinket store or restaurant with doors wide open ... yet with nothing substantial to offer within.
this day started early for me as I drove my momma-san to the airport. she'll spend a week in my favorite american city of New Orleans, helping demo + rebuild houses still untouched after Katrina's wrath. hours later my presence was requested at lunch. after driving around only to discover that two of the restaurants we craved were both closed (further solidifying my Sunday sadness) we happened upon a southern bbq restaurant out in suburbia. I inched over in the booth and then slouched down in my seat as the blues music and southern atmosphere entered my senses. I became quiet and reflective as my mind traveled to thoughts of southern dusty roads and my happiness that lay await for me there.
I sipped a mojito, ate half of my food, then we skirted out of there. I requested that we stop at a gigantic antique store that was open by the side of the road. once inside, even THAT didn't cheer me up. I crouched down to my knees then sat on the floor slowly rifling though baskets of old photos, and even their ancient faces couldn't cheer me...in fact it just made it worse. At one point my eyes blurred and I had to lean my head back and close my eyes so as not to let tears fall. they never smile in those photos and sometimes it just weighs on me...
in any case I found one group photo which I presumed must have been taken on a Sunday as it appeared a leisurely atmosphere, and this made me smile because it reminded me that Sunday...this day is supposed to be the day of recreation, the relaxing day, the one day NOT to work, and to enjoy your loved ones...
