I hate Sundays now. My father and I would talk on the phone every Sunday at about 3pm. Sometimes we’d talk during the week as well, usually Wednesdays, so afternoons aren’t great either. I know in my last post I lamented waiting for the bus for this reason, but Sundays are the worst.

I woke this morning having had a dream about friends, camps, and of course, my father. Having only slept a few hours Friday night due to having Saturday full of multiple volunteer commitments plus spending more piles of cash shopping for truck parts, I tried to sleep in a bit. As a prize, I got a headache. I hate that sleep gives me headaches sometimes.

So I swore, got up, and got my day started. Of course this meant heading to NAPA for more truck parts first, then a class for the Red Cross, then working on the truck all afternoon. It’s on the road again though, so despite a few hacks, there was success.

I forgot to eat. I had some chips, a york peppermint patty, and an assortment of beverages. I don’t eat when I’m stressed out. Sometimes I drink coffee when I am, which just makes me eat less. It’s a problem.

So I had a bowl of soup and talked to mother on the phone for a piece of time. Here we are, nearly at the end of another weekend. I spent time with friends as best I could. I tried to stay positive. I suppose I can sleep it off now.

Tomorrow is another day.