Sunday night has transformed into complete hell for me.  I wait patiently in bed for any loss of energy to help me finish the day and fall asleep, but that is a task in of itself.  It’s not for good reason either.  Everyday I’m usually out sometime after midnight, even on Fridays and Saturdays for the most part; maybe it’s some anxiety for the first work day of the week.  But that doesn’t explain why I don’t have the same problem five nights a week.
 
What has become my routine on Sunday nights:  watch some sports wrap-up program with d-bag Mike Francessa of WFAN fame, watch reruns of Sex and the City (last night Carrie started dating Berger), change/remove pajamas periodically, and add/remove sheets/blankets.
 
Maybe 9-to-5 life is not for me.  I can’t remember a time this has ever occurred with such consistency.  It’s getting just as annoying as my tendency to sleep a small number of hours in hotel rooms.