After wrestling with the blankets all night and waking up so tangled up that I could barely get out of bed, I realized it is Sunday. Sunday and I can sleep without an alarm. Sunday and I can make a tasty brunch. Sunday and I can just be lazy and happy. I can do what I want.
I read an article about being resurrected. I browsed through Facebook and even made a couple of posts. I waited to put on clothes, preferring my pajamas and no bra.
I felt like a cat who finds a spot of sun to take a nap. I felt like a stack of pancakes. I felt like journaling in a hammock.
I felt like experiencing the silence you find in an empty church building.
Sunday feels like a warm blanket and a nap.