Sunday, Errands, Reading, Writing, and Marking

Sunday’s rolling along like a soft, steady heartbeat. Nothing’s setting the world on fire, but nothing’s crashing either. Just a calm parade of decent essays marching across my desk, most of them sitting comfortably in that “hey, you actually get it” zone. A few nice turns of phrase sneak in every now and then, enough to keep me from going cross-eyed.

The coffee’s still warm, the dog’s snoring under the table, and every check-mark feels like quiet proof that the week’s readings actually landed somewhere in the middle of their brains. No drama, no despair, just the gentle hum of progress.

These are the Sundays I secretly love most, ordinary, productive, and peacefully mine.