The sun streams through the windows this Sunday morning. I find myself wrapped in the warmth of my bed, succumbing to the siren song of the "snooze" button a few times more than usual.
I had a late-night filled with bouts in The Witcher 3 and unraveling the mysteries of Silo's first season. I was waiting for my wife's return from a Saturday night Beyoncé concert, which spilled into the early morning hours.
Today, our home is a sanctuary of relaxation. Our usual dog duo has an extra guest, Indy, Freya's sister. There is a peaceful silence enveloping the house. It breaks with their snoring and the soft rustle of blankets, the soundtrack to our laziness.
This is our much-needed respite amidst a busy summer and the recovery from a recent sickness.
There's an uncanny magic to these quiet Sundays. Days like this feel like a precious oasis in a world that seldom slows its relentless march. They are an essential pause, healing in their tranquil simplicity and savored all the more for their rarity.
A walk in the park with the dogs is in the cards. The promise of fresh air and the lighthearted joy of watching the dogs chase squirrels always bring a spark to these slow mornings.
I need to get the kids on board. So I'm planning a little adventure to the local grocery store. The sweet reward of ice cream can be my delicious bribe.
But first things first, a hot shower beckons, inviting me to wash away the remnants of sleep and step into the slow, gentle rhythm of this lazy Sunday.
The world may be in a hurry, but today, we're not.