Escaping the Sunday afternoon blues

How to avoid 'the long tea-time of the soul'

For those that work Monday – Friday, Sundays are a strange kind of beast. Sunday afternoons especially. Once described by the author Douglas Adams as ‘the Long Dark Tea-time of the Soul’, Sunday afternoons stretch often before us like the last oasis, before crossing the sheer acreage of desert that is the week ahead. Sometimes the afternoon will seep away into nothingness, another Sunday afternoon expired and gone to the great beyond. Unless, you are unfortunate enter the long dark tea-time of the soul.

So, how to avoid the dreaded tea time, and how can one the escape slow passage of a Sunday afternoon? As with all things, planning is crucial, and it is here that I freely admit I am completely useless in this regard. But I try and endeavor to arrive at the last outpost of weekend freedom, ready to spend my time - that most precious of commodities - wisely. Here are a few of the things you will find me doing on a Sunday afternoon.

THE SNOOKER

Last year my partner, Dominique, and I watched sixteen snooker tournaments (at least). Typically, tournaments begin on Mondays and end on Sundays, the final match spread across two sessions – afternoon and evening.

Sometimes the final match of the tournament is a fairly brief affair, and sometimes it goes on into the night, the final frames bothering midnight as the clock ticks and weary-eyed affectionados watch on. On snooker final days, the long dark tea-time of the soul is lost in the infinite void of a deciding frame dominated by safety play and a re-spotted black.

SCI-FI SUNDAY

Sci-Fi Sunday presents the absolute zenith of my organizational skills. Three meals spent in front of the TV, sampling some of science fiction’s finest. Sometimes I’ll plan these days to have a loose theme, space-stations, say. Maybe robots. Other times I might just watch as many Star Wars films as possible. With a mountain of munch to get through, I approach sci-fi Sundays with a desire to maximise my nerdiness before the weekend ends.

MUSIC FESTIVALS

Sundays afternoons at festivals are the long sticky piss-ups of the soul, and that’s never more true than anytime after 1pm. By this time showers are a long distant memory and something that I'd run from, like a dog threatened with a (don’t say it!) B - A - T – H. Festival Sundays are by far the greatest Sundays of all. The magnitude of Mondays hell is therefore greater.

THE SUNDAY LUNCH

It’s a cliche’ here in the United Kingdom to consume a hearty dinner consisting of roast vegetables and meat, with gravy and various other side options which may include cranberry sauce, or sage and onion stuffing. I had to put this on my list because I am a traditionalist where meals are concerned a fan of a good roast dinner, it had to make my list, though I must confess my ‘Sunday lunch’ got re-located to a mid-week spot back in 2001.

THE LATE WALK

It’s 5pm, the afternoon has drifted by in an agreeable manner and it seems as if there’s nothing left to do but have a shower, make a sandwich and crawl into bed until Monday comes. But then there’s one last cheeky outing, a meander through some darkening woods, a brisk walk to the local beauty spot, or turn around the park as the sun begins to set. Yes Monday morning lurks around the corner ready to threaten your good cheer, but as the sun sinks slowly on the horizon you know that whatever Monday will bring, it’ll be beautiful in it’s own way.

RELATIVES

If ever there’s a time when the long tea-time bites especially hard, it’s during those long, awkward hours spent with relatives hearing about their latest holidays / ailments / who died recently. The attention to the conversation vanished shortly after the last pink wafer went to biscuit heaven, there’s nothing left but hope for some sport on Channel 5, because that’s the only channel your relative can get. Suddenly the decision to uninstall the Tetris app raises it regretful head.

THE FAVORITE TV PROGRAM

It’s a game. A cruel, sickening game played on us by program planners who love their jobs. These scheming program schedulers know the vast majority of viewers have to get up for work on Monday, and know they spend the week aching for the weekend, and so for nothing more than cruel kicks, they schedule the best TV show, your most favourite program of all, for 9pm on a Sunday. What kind of twisted people do this? People who know nothing of the hatred and loathing of Mondays. Morning, afternoon, evening has been wished and willed away because last week’s cliffhanger was amazing and 9pm could not come soon enough.

THE NIGHT OUT

Going out on a piss up on Sunday night is nothing more than denial. Along with festival Sundays, it’s by far the most effective way to escape the wretched tea-time.

THE NIGHT IN

The night before there was a get-together, possibly a party. Food and booze left over, enough for a cheeky, private party, in fact. This is denial but done cheaper. It’s also pretty effective.

So there we have it. by foregoing these I do save on washing up. Which is nice.

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