7 (Awesome) Things You Can Only Really Do On Sunday

An ode to the most consistently excellent day of the week:


1. Happily Wallow

Wallowing is generally associated with a sort of slumping stagnation — you wallow in the aftermath of a trying breakup, or over the fact that Chumbawamba is no longer a band. Sunday, the day of rest and acceptable laziness, coincides greatly with this oft-practiced art. But it manages to do so in a manner that’s, amazingly, positive and momentous.

A weekday wallow is pretty remarkable, but that’s only because it’s got that built-in Ferris Bueller-type excitement — namely, the allure stems from the fact that you’re playing hookey. A Saturday wallow can be nice, but oftentimes it’s overshadowed by expectation. Saturday is the day you are supposed to do things, so if you don’t go to a street fair and rave about the lime chicken burgers, you are not fully participating in life.

A Sunday Wallow allows you to reflect on the week that was. If the Saturday night was particularly memorable you get to spend the entire day reliving your successful night out, but also doesn’t judge you for weekend shortcomings. Rather, the Sunday Wallow is extremely tolerant — equally accepting of both extreme hangovers or substance-free laziness.

2. …Doing Anything Is Considered A Plus

You don’t have to wake up early Sunday morning and go the gym. But if you do? You’re a hero.

3.  Read Long Articles

In light of The Interview fiasco, a friend of mine directed me toward’s this article; it’s a bit old, but it talks about the (willing) disintegration of personal privacy over time, discussing the evolution of the pop-culture zeitgeist and how the workings of the internet have slowly evolved.*

*I actually don’t know this for sure, because I only skimmed the article in between takes of firing off emails and checking Facebook. I will be reading this article today, uninterrupted.

4. It’s The Day Everything Changes

Sunday is that day that you get to decide that this is the week that you’re finally gonna get it together. Sunday, therefore, only knows hope. It doesn’t see Thursday, and the woeful results of your plan to hit the gym every night.

Sunday is both your idea for an Oscar-winning movie, and the daydreamed acceptance speech.

5. If You Don’t Have Anything To Talk About, Just Talk About The Jets

I call my parents on Sundays. When I talk to my dad, the conversation will generally revolve around The New York Jets. I am not a Jets fan, and he’s only sort of a Jets fan. But we talk about the Jets because their a great entity to make fun of, and are ultimate deflection of reality. We talk about the Jets because we’d rather not talk about me getting my life together. (Or at least I’d rather not.)

6. Understated Traditions

Be it religiously-based or otherwise, Sundays are built for tradition. Personally, I’ve taken to sometimes eating by myself at the diner across the street from my apartment. This has to be done pretty early (in my personal opinion, breakfast is the only meal in which eating a meal alone at a restaurant is admirable and not depressing*) and can never be rushed. When executed correctly, it’s easily in contention for the best moment of the week.

*Lunch alone is also acceptable, but is oftentimes ruined when an establishment is crowded, or when one is seated close to a loud table. It ends up not being about the lunch, but rather about Blake’s sister’s engagement party, or what that super hot guy possibly sees in Meredith. 

7. It Encourages Events, But Allows For Excuses

As previously stated, Sunday is the most tolerant of all days. You can go to a free music festival in a park, you can nurse your hangover back to health, or you can spend all day going on some sort of historic food tour.

You can do all these things, but no matter who you are, you also have an out. Don’t want to accompany your friend to the bar to watch the Cowboy’s game? Simply say you’ve got a lot of emails to catch up on. Unlike on Saturday, you can’t “just do it tomorrow.” On Sunday, tomorrow is the end of the world. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

About the author

Lance Pauker

More From Thought Catalog