I love Sunday mornings. I spend them with a naked person. Sometimes a man, sometimes a woman, depending on who’s been hired. Of course, I have to share the naked person with everyone else in the room, but that’s fair, considering how affordable it is. I’ve learned that if I get there early, I can get a good spot. And an experienced Naked Person will play the angles and make sure that everyone gets satisfied at some point during the morning. The music is good, there’s a pot of hot water for tea and coffee after and someone usually brings a snack. I like it because there’s no pressure to perform, everyone’s there because they want to be and people even feel free to experiment a bit without worrying about the outcome. I can practice techniques I want to use later, when it counts. I love my Sunday morning figure drawing class and the time I spend sketching and socializing with other artists.
I usually spend them at church, which sometimes starts a bit too early in the morning for my taste, but usually that’s not too bad. Seeing the kids I know and love once more is a great thing, as is seeing my friends.
Some Sundays I go downtown to this lovely little bakery; I get an Almond Croissant & a cup of coffee - pure bliss. I think I’ll do this more often. I used to dread Sundays because it meant Monday was on the horizon. Now, I’ve learned to embrace the Sundays and enjoy them.
Although, I could use a naked person or two to complete the day…
Ooo, almond croissants. My favorite. When we lived in Paris, we sometimes spent a weekend morning wandering the boulevards collecting lunch (un peu de fromage, des saucisses, du vin, des fraises et raisins, du bon pain, bein sur et des patisseries… miam miam), then spent the afternoon in leisurely consumption.
I pound away on Sunday mornings. Sometimes gently, sometimes hard. Sometimes I make a lot of noise, but mostly I try to blend with the others.
The rhythm, the rolling, the vibration, the unspoken communication, the feeling that we’re all united in our efforts, it all lifts me to a higher plane. And I like to think I’m contributing to everyone’s sensual experience, and achieving a higher spiritual level with my beating.
I just love playing the tymps in my church’s musical ensemble.
I woke up before eight this morning so I got up, had a shower, got dressed and headed out. I went to the local Second Cup and had an extra large mocha java with a banana-pecan muffin. To add to the excitement I read the latest copy of Men’s Health.
The past few Sundays have started out in the same way. First, the boy child comes in and jumps on mom and dads heads. Then the girl child starts to coo. I send the hubby to get her and he puts her in bed with us. She then starts to crawl on our heads. After a few elbows to undesirable areas, the children fall victim to the dreaded tickle torture. The sound of my children laughing is pure bliss. What a way to start the day!
Persephone, you don’t have to pay them nothing. Just turn off the heat. Of course you’ll freeze your own tuchus off, but that’s the price you have to pay for a little civilization.
I spent this sunday caling in sick to work (OK, I wasn’t sick), then telling my crew at work on IM that I got started too late (3am) & didn’t finish until 7am, so there was no way I could be to work at 10am. They understood & congratulated me.
No double-entendre. It’s nice to be sexually active again!
Hungover. And not quite sure whether I should be proud that there are NO naked people in my bed with me (because the ‘who are you?’ conversation tends to be a bit dicey), or disappointed that there are no naked people in bed with me.
Then I usually spend the day figuring out ways to NOT clean my apartment, which is usually what I should be doing. This usually translates to finding someone to go to brunch with, and puttering around until it’s time to go to my parents’ for dinner.
Then why is she wasting good hard-earned money trying to get them to put their clothes back on? Not that it matters to me. My kid did it enough. I’m assuming they’re young enough to run about nekkid without scaring the horses.
I spend my Sunday mornings in church. And most Sunday’s I am in the nursery for part of it. I suspect that the only reason I DON’T have naked children running around is that their parents have PAID them to stay dressed.
I usually update my personal web site each Sunday morning. If my family wants to do something we’ll go out together and have breakfast. If nothing else I just take it easy and enjoy the solitude. Having worked in fast food and then retail for twelve years between the two jobs, I learned that Sundays off from work are not to be taken for granted, and now that I am at a job that gives me weekends off, I cherish every moment of these times.
