It’s a winter’s day out there and its was aim was to put us off. Sundays come in grey when January arrives. Today was wind laced with rain. What more does one, or two in this case, need to persuade you to stay in by the fireside?
So we ran. Sundays are our days. They used to be the Lord’s days but he has lots of holidays, especially these days.
Work will be with us tomorrow. No use rushing it on. I think Jean Jacques Rousseau would have agreed.
“…the Citizen, forever active, sweats, scurries, constantly agonizes…he works to the death, even rushes toward it in order to be in a position to live…He courts the great whom he hates, and the rich whom he despises; he spares nothing to attain the honor of serving them…”