Vanity...definitely my favorite sin.

So it's Sunday again. I always look forward to my time off during the week. On say, Wednesday, I'll be really tired but I'll think to myself, that's ok because when Sunday comes around I can just sleep all day or go to the bookstore or do whatever I want. But Sundays are rarely good days for me. Being alone on a Sunday (as I often am) is somehow even worse than being alone on a different day of the week. I prefer hanging out alone on a Friday night to hanging out alone on a Sunday. If I'm alone on a Friday night, I can at least laugh at myself, sitting around doing laundry and watching Ghost Whisperer. It's still Friday night, a night filled with the promise of the weekend. Maybe it's that I really don't mind not having a boyfriend or someone to go on dates with right now. I'm not worried about it. But Sundays are family days, or at least friend days. And when I don't have family or friends around when everyone else seems to, that's what gets to me. And I can't help it--it seems like on Sundays, all I see around me is tragedy. I live in a city so it's not hard to find something to be sad about--the homeless man standing in the intersection holding up a sign that says "Vietnam Vet, hungry," or the line of people outside the Salvation Army Rehab Center waiting to see if there's a bed available. Even a cloudy, gray sky gets to me. Today I decided to go to the mall. I thought, I could never be sad or depressed at a mall. Malls are so bright and cheerful, with their skylights and shiny floors and jewelery shops and frozen yogurt stands. But I was wrong. Surrounding myself with people all happily Christmas shopping was not a good idea. There were thug-wannabe teenage boys walking around in puffy coats with buzz cuts and fake diamond earrings. They depressed and frightened me. There were whole huge Asian families, standing in line at Villa Pizza or Great Steak Escape joking and laughing with each other and taking turns running off arm in arm to the restrooms. I saw a girl holding one of those photo booth picture strips. Anyone who knows me knows that I love photo booths. But it's way too pathetic to go into one of those things alone, so of course I didn't. The one person I did speak to at the mall was Phyllis, the kindly woman who asked if I'd be willing to fill out an Old Navy survey and in return she'd give me five dollars. She was older and hunched over with scraggly blond hair. She reminded me of the little woman/puppet that lives in the junkyard in "Labyrinth" (starring David Bowie). I thought, what the hell, I've got nothing but time. She asked how old I was and was shocked when I said 25. I said, "Why how old did you think I was?" She just said, "Younger, for sure." So that lifted my spirits a little. Plus, when she gave me my five dollars she said, "There you go. I'm sure you'll have fun with that." She's right. I will. So now that I'm thinking of it, I think I'll make a list of things you shouldn't do alone on a Sunday (if you're prone to Sunday depression):

1. Don't see a dramatic or sad movie
2. Don't go to the mall
3. Don't go to the pet store and think how much better your life would be if only you could have a pet
4. Don't go to Potbelly's (that place gets so busy on the weekends!)
5. Don't pull out any of your old yearbooks/time capsules and look through them while listening to mournful Bruce Springsteen songs

More to come...