Sundays

Despite being in Germany for a year now, I'm still not quite used to Sundays. Nearly every single shop, including grocery stores, is closed. On Saturday, you have to remember to go and buy any ingredients or food you might need on Sunday, because if you want to make pancakes and have no flour, you're out of luck. But it's also a challenge of occupying yourself, and finding ways to enjoy the day that don't involve going shopping. I'm not a big spender, but I tend to do small errands throughout the week instead of doing all my shopping on one day (which, incidentally, would be Sunday if I was still living at home). So when a small part of my day usually involves stopping at Rewe for bread or juice and Rossmann for toothpaste on the way home from the gym or work, on Sunday I have to think of something else to do. It sounds insignificant but I like habits and I've been struggling to come up with a Sunday routine. This has turned out to be kind of interesting, though, because it's clear that most Germans see Sunday as a day to enjoy life and relax with friends and family.

In my attempts to figure out what the hell to do with myself on Sundays, I've fashioned a rough sort of routine. I generally wake up early, so the day starts with dragging out my breakfast by painstakingly constructing my Brötchen (the rolls Germans like to eat anytime, but especially for breakfast) with various spreads and toppings. I usually can't decide between tea or coffee, so I make both and that takes up a good chunk of time just waiting for the boiling water to become drinkable. The only other things I always do on Sundays are my 4:00 fitness course and my weekly phone call home, and maybe some lesson planning for the week ahead. This is all well and good, but there are a solid twelve hours or so that I try to fill with reading, catching up with emails, or vacuuming. Sunday is a test of occupation, of whether I am an independent enough person to occupy my time when I'm essentially alone for a whole day. Most of my roommates are occupied too, either at work or with their boyfriends/girlfriends, so other than the occasional breakfast together, I'm stuck staring at the elephant tapestry in my room. I never used to have problems keeping myself busy, so it kind of worries me when I look around my room and just feel at a loss. What's stopping me from being like these Germans with peaceful and content looks on their faces as they eat their Sunday apple cake and drink their milk coffees? Watching them just makes my love-hate relationship with Sunday grow even more. It's like a Rubik's cube with very clear directions you can read if you want to solve it, but I'm too stubborn to read the directions and out of frustration fling the cube at the wall instead.