Sunday Monotony

When I was in middle school and high school, I always did my weekend homework on Sunday evenings after dinner. Usually my family was watching whatever Sunday evening TV program they were into at the time. It doesn't really sound that bad. Sure, no one ever liked doing their homework, but that wasn't what bothered me. I distinctly remember a feeling of horrible monotonous misery at the thought of another week starting that was just like the last. I remember thinking "Is this all there is?". A week of school/ work, looking forward to the weekend, and then, it's over. It always disappeared during the week because I was a busy kid, but it was that Sunday night calmness that came with the dinner dishes being cleaned up and the TV flickering that really meant monotony. That's how I feel all the time now. Facing the end of the crazy undergraduate years, coming out of three summers abroad. All I can think about of a future with a 9-5 job, 2 weeks off a year, spending Sunday nights preparing for another week- is that all there is?

Last Sunday I cried. Really cried. Any kind of crying is uncharacteristic for me, but this cry was incredibly rare. I was standing in my bedroom, no one home at my house, preparing for Monday when it just ripped through me. No warning. I felt the wave of emotion sweep through my body and had to sit down on my bed before it knocked me over. And then it happened. loud sobs. tears. snot. My sinuses felt like they were going to explode. My lungs started burning for air. I felt like my stomach was coming up my throat. I actually grabbed for my garbage can at one point because I thought I was going to vomit. It stopped almost as quickly as it began and I was left wondering, exactly, why it began.

Except, I think I really do know. I don't want the life I'm leading right now, or the one I feel I'm being pushed in to and I'm not sure if I have the courage to live the life I dream of.