Sunday Night Blues

Man, oh man, I forgot what this feels like. Sunday night, the sun starts to set, it's getting dark outside, and you realize that given a minimum of four hours of sleep, you literally do not have enough hours left before first period on Monday to grade and plan and prepare to the best of your abilities. That sinking stone in the pit of your stomach. That strange belly-ache like when you pulled all-nighters in front of a blue screen in college. That aching existential rut.

By Monday it's gone because I love my job and here's another week and let's-fucking-go, but Sunday night hurts and another one keeps coming.