Up until a few months ago, I did not like Sundays. It was just as hectic as every other day.  After Mass, I would go to the market for the weekly shopping while the kids went to CCD (Sunday school) then I’d pick them up on the way home.

We’d unload the car, put the groceries away and I’d hurry to get lunch on the table.

This routine continued even after the kids moved out.  Mr. Aitch was the choir director at a different church so I would still go to the market after Mass while he was at his church.  Then the rest of the routine followed pretty much the same: unload the car, put the groceries away, hurry to get lunch on the table.

Mr. Aitch retired from the choir director position over a year ago and since we were both retired, I didn’t need to go to the market every week.

The hectic routine gradually changed.  I always associated going to Mass/church as a dreadful thing and I would berate myself for not wanting to spend some time with God.  But that wasn’t it at all.  It was what I made the day out to be and yesterday, it finally dawned on me that I now enjoy Sundays again.

A day of rest and relaxing.

I’m not sure when this adjective became me but it’s a good description of me lately.

And I don’t like it.

It seems like every little thing makes me snarl either inwardly or outwardly.

I’ve been bad-tempered, short-tempered, irascible, testy, touchy, grumpy, grouchy, moody, crotchety, in a (bad) mood, cantankerous, bilious, curmudgeonly, ill-tempered, annoyed, cross, ill-humored, peevish, fractious, pettish, crabby, bitchy, waspish, prickly, splenetic, dyspeptic, choleric, cranky, ornery, shitty, on a short fuse, soreheaded and just plain irritable.

Ain’t nobody got time for this.