It’s no secret that I love Sundays. I’m not good at the church thing, but I always felt that being away from the hustle and bustle of the week, our minds are more relaxed and receptive to spiritual messages on Sundays. It’s a perfect day for lingering conversations with long winded relatives, slow walks to nowhere special and hearty meals that you can spend the rest of the weekend working off, if that’s your thing. And honestly, is there any loving better than some good Sunday morning loving? Methinks not.
Sunday morning is also my weigh in day, and I must say, when I see the scale going in the right direction, it makes me feel better about the upcoming week. There’s a certain obligation to either undo the wrong that’s been done, or not take a dump on my hard work. This week, there’s no undoing wrongs. Your girl is on course. This is a working definition of “what’s hot in these streets.”
I also love Sundays when I’m coming off of a great Saturday. Yesterday, I spent the afternoon laughing harder than I’ve laughed in a while at nothing in particular. That’s a good feeling. I had a great afternoon, and it makes me realize that I need to get out more often. If I didn’t have so much cleaning and whatnot to do today, I’d certainly hop back on the train and give this “getting out” thing another go. When you leave your house, the compulsion to shove food in your face all but disappears. This especially holds true when the McDonald’s offers NINE DOLLAR combos. WTF?!
Next week, I’m finally going to check out Busboys and Poets and see what all the hullabaloo is about. I haven’t settled on whether or not I’m going to the U Street location or the one on 5th & K, but I’m definitely hoping to have some delicious food and perhaps make a couple of new acquaintances.
I have the tattoo itch again. I’ve been wanting the same tattoo on my right shoulder for ages now, but whenever I say “Yeah, I’m going to go for it,” I suddenly decide against. I mean, I’m bored, so my only answer is to torture myself with a needle? I’m not sure how healthy that is. If I get it, I’ll be sure to post pics. My other dilemma is that I can’t draw, so I would probably be walking around with something generic or someone else’s design. Neither prospect is very inviting to me, but I’ll see.
For those who don’t know, Oyin Handmade’s Whipped Shea Butter gives me LIFE. It’s 31 flavors of the bomb. Since I’ve been using this stuff, my skin has felt like heaven on gossamer on some cool jazz that I don’t even know about yet. I could be in the dingiest pair of chucks or the most worn pair of flip flops. If my skin is feeling fabulous, I’m alright. And my hair…YEESH! I’m so loving how it feels these days, I can’t even explain it. I’m overdue for a trim, but finding a good product line that is affordable and black owned just lifts me to unimaginable heights.
Now I just need to get my mind right and decide if I’m going to do yoga or pilates this morning. I’m thinking my ankle might say “hell to the naw” to some of that yoga jazz. Ah well, off to start my Sunday!