Sundays

The wrotting smell seeps in through the nostrils as soon as the senses awake from unconsiousness and recognize the morning air. they recognize the Sunday smell: "the day of worship", definately not the "cat's pajamas" and FAR from "the bees knees".
I would try to be more poetically strong when i say this but really Sundays don't diserve it and frankly i'm surprised that i've even be capitolizing it. whether you must go to church early, late or later you still have to go. thank goodness my parents decided to spare us from the crazed lunatics that happen to run every church orginization condensed on this land mass.
But it doesn't stop there; homework. there is never time for the occaisional blog post, especially when there's wold history to be done! oh and then after that there's certainly enough reading of pointless books about arrranged marrages to go around. "do you want fried crap with that or just a crock o' shit?"
finally, the guilt banging on the brain for NOT working hard enough. god its a bitch.