Probably the thing I love most about Sundays is that I get to sleep as long as I want to without a care in the world. That it is also a holiday and a day away from work in no way dampens the charm of the day, but then, that bit is rather obvious.
My Sunday ritual is sacred to me. I wake up around 10 or 11, depending on how loudly my tummy growls. After a leisurely breakfast of tea, bread, biscuits (to the accompaniment of a juicy thriller novel that is glued to my eyes from the minute they open on Sunday), I stretch out on the bed and bury myself wholeheartedly and without interruptions into the aforementioned novel.
A few hours later, my tummy signals time for lunch and I go back to eating and yes, reading. Post lunch I read (surprise, surprise) and read till its time for dinner. By this time, I have finished my novel and am at the TV watching some six packs with relish.
Can you top this?
Monday, May 25, 2009
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