My Perfect Sunday

Its all about how much you sleep. Definitely it should be eleven o'clock. No more, I hate loosing all day long sleeping. Waking up, and hearing some sprinkling with rain out side. I love the sound that rain does when it crash with a roof glass. I love waking up with that noise, knowing that today I can stay home everyday, without dressing for any special reunion. And So I am, with my slippers and loose-fitting trousers, pacing up and down the department, singing a great song or eating some candies hidden in the drawer of the kitchen. Its perfect.

Suddenly, 4 o'clock. Maybe its time for lunch, maybe we call for a pizza. I love when it doesnt matter. When nothing is necessary, just the things that we want to do. Everything gets better if my boyfriend surprised me, arriving with a box of chocolates or a dvd that we can watch inside the bed, with a hot-water bottle between our foot fingers.

There are so many Sundays that I cant do it. So many. There are so many things to do always. The help that I should offer my mom, the work, the university stuff. Things that are fine, but doesnt leave me time for what I love doing most... Rest.

Thats why these Sundays are perfect when my mother is out home, I doesnt have to go work and University is on a strike. Like today.