For years, I used to hate Sunday nights. Actually, it started about 3:00 on Sunday. That's the point where the realization kicked in that work started tomorrow.
The early part of the week was the worst thing, too - lousy meetings, way more work than time (or support), and a full week with little let-up.
I'd usually make the mistake of digging into my email and realizing just how much I had to do. I'd usually try to crank out a couple of hours of work to try and get things organized, but progress was hard and the whole process seemed futile.
The depression was real and deep. I'd become sullen, and start thinking about the impending week and what was ahead. Often times my wife would ask, "What's wrong?" and I'd simply reply "Sunday."
The night was usually capped off with a fitful night's worth of sleep, followed by a too-early rise and departure to another week of battle.
Now? Sunday is awesome. I actually enjoy the day, and by that, I meant the whole day. I'll check email a couple of times, but now see an inbox that is orderly, and hasn't been besieged by folks working over the weekend, or worst, requests that demanded answers immediately.
What's that worth? It is hard to put a price on happiness or sleeping like a baby on Sunday night, but I have a feeling it is worth a whole lot.
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