Y'know, I hardly ever comment on other journals in a critical way, but come on:

Sundays here are the same way. Last week wasn't so bad, because everything was still in turmoil. Now the little town is back to normal and I find myself appalled by its version of normalcy. Sure, you can never buy a drink or a great meal or a non-Christian book here, but at least during the week there's something. Today EVERYTHING IS CLOSED. I had volunteered to cook dinner tonight, but I'd have to drive an hour to get the groceries.

I guess when I read something like this it makes me glad that my "version of normalcy" is very, well, normal. Sure, after I write this I'm going to get dressed and head out to the library, but it's actually only fairly recently that the libraries started being open on Sundays, and really, I was okay with that. When I was growing up, the stores weren't even open on Sundays, and it wasn't really a problem.

I've been doing laundry and cleaning this morning, I just scrambled an egg for a late breakfast. I might knit a little later, maybe read something, maybe watch a DVD. I certainly don't bemoan the lack of a sparkling night life, but hey, that's just me.