Late Sunday afternoons are weird. What does one do on late Sunday afternoons?

Today has been excellent, but I’m grinding my teeth and worried I won’t sleep tonight. I woke to N crawling on me around six. We chatted for a while before we rose and I hit the gym at seven for forty minutes on the stairmaster and leg weights. Momentum was at stake so I ate breakfast, showered, and drove to Alterra’s. Customers crowded the coffee shop but I snagged counter space and knocked out a couple pages of the Catherine of Sienna paper while the churchgoers and yawning hipsters around me ate breakfast. Then I returned home, watched the Brewers score ten runs in the first inning, and played catch with S. What else happened? Oh, I made a dark chocolate cake with caramel frosting, all from scratch. Blogger isn’t accepting pictures today, apparently, so you have to wait for an image. I’m also focused on preparing for tomorrow today, because I think I’ll sleep better knowing I’m prepared, so I already made tomorrow’s lunch and have most of my clothes ready. Oh, and I did weights and pilates. Good day. But what now? I think I’m going to shave, take a shower, and read. I’m still digging the Jim Thompson.

Yesterday M and I saw the excellent Date Night. I also wrote up some poetry fragments. Progress, progress.

I need to pray/meditate. I don’t want a tense Sunday night, but I think I bring them mostly upon myself. Have a lovely start of the week. I can hear the kids downstairs finishing the last of their homework. Better check.