Sunday morning joy, Sunday night anxiety
In my extensive work experience, there’s a sure-fire way to tell how much you really like or dislike your job. It all comes down to how you feel Sunday night.
If you’re not sure, you can take this quick and easy quiz to find out!
Do you feel:
A. Angry and hostile toward others, glowering and yelling and finding yourself up late all alone?
B. At loose ends, starting with a general malaise about mid-Sunday afternoon until you’re tossing and turning in bed that night for no apparent reason?
C. Mildly anxious, but you attribute it the fact that NBC no longer has Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom and The Wonderful World of Disney in its Sunday night line-up? (Sheesh, how old is this guy, anyway?)
The most stressful response is “A.” But if you’re too tense to care how you scored, or even finish the quiz, that might be another indicator for you.
For anyone whose workweek starts on a Monday, I’m guessing we all feel some anxiety Sunday night as we leave the weekend and head into the work week. It’s been programmed into us from our grade school days. But if you really dread Sunday night – this is just a wild guess – you may really not like your job.
When I was in a job I really didn’t like (you know who you are, Mr. Unpleasant Employer), I scored “A” pretty consistently. I hated Sunday nights. I was unpleasant and unruly. I was always disappointed that the high I felt in worship on Sunday mornings had evaporated less than 12 hours later. And right before I left that unpleasant job, I realized that the anxiety of Sunday night had completely washed over Sunday afternoon, trashed Sunday morning and even started working its special magic as early as mid-day Saturday. That was just one of the key indicators for me that it was time to move on.
Even today, as I look forward to a job I like and people I like to work with, I feel a bit of Sunday night anxiety. It may have something to do with not seeing Tinkerbell fly over Cinderalla’s castle, but I suppose it could be a bit work-induced. That’s why we have some unspoken rules at the Petersen house for Sunday nights.
First, there are no out-of-the-house social activities Sunday night. It dates back to when my work stress made me completely unruly on Sunday nights and my wife kept me at home for the protection of others. To this day, if we get a party invitation for Sunday night, we nearly always turn it down (which is saying something, considering how seldom we’re invited to parties!).
Second, we go to bed early. Although, depending on how tense I am, crawling into bed early can be kind of a pointless exercise. I can lay awake worrying about work while I am in bed just as easily as I can watching the Sunday night movie of the week.
Third, I read. Now I wish I could tell you I read the Bible, but that’s usually not the case. (OK, never the case.) Usually it’s something completely pointless. In another sterling example of personal paradox, if I am particularly worried about the workweek, I will often read work stuff. In my simple mind, I assume that by getting some work done Sunday night, I’ll be ready to hit the ground running Monday, and, thus, be able to relax Sunday night. But, of course, attacking work Sunday night only forces me to spend more time thinking about work. Nothing guarantees a good anxiety attack on a Sunday night like reading work stuff. If you really want to work yourself into a lather, go ahead and check your voice mail and your work e-mail, too, while you’re at it.
I know that I should do something much more profound Sunday nights, like cloister myself in my prayer room and map out my goals and objectives for the week while I pray through the week’s activities. I actually did that for about two weeks. It gave me a sense of comfort and purpose, but, like many of my great personal holiness initiatives, it quietly ended before I could make it a habit. (Yet another reason I claim each and every one of Christ’s promises of grace.)
So now I’m sitting here, Sunday night, trying to write while I watch Amercia’s Funniest Videos with the family, phone off the hook and open Bible on the desk in front of me. (Or, more accurately, on a shelf in the next room. But I could go get it if I really wanted to.)
What are your Sunday night rituals?
If you’re not sure, you can take this quick and easy quiz to find out!
Do you feel:
A. Angry and hostile toward others, glowering and yelling and finding yourself up late all alone?
B. At loose ends, starting with a general malaise about mid-Sunday afternoon until you’re tossing and turning in bed that night for no apparent reason?
C. Mildly anxious, but you attribute it the fact that NBC no longer has Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom and The Wonderful World of Disney in its Sunday night line-up? (Sheesh, how old is this guy, anyway?)
The most stressful response is “A.” But if you’re too tense to care how you scored, or even finish the quiz, that might be another indicator for you.
For anyone whose workweek starts on a Monday, I’m guessing we all feel some anxiety Sunday night as we leave the weekend and head into the work week. It’s been programmed into us from our grade school days. But if you really dread Sunday night – this is just a wild guess – you may really not like your job.
When I was in a job I really didn’t like (you know who you are, Mr. Unpleasant Employer), I scored “A” pretty consistently. I hated Sunday nights. I was unpleasant and unruly. I was always disappointed that the high I felt in worship on Sunday mornings had evaporated less than 12 hours later. And right before I left that unpleasant job, I realized that the anxiety of Sunday night had completely washed over Sunday afternoon, trashed Sunday morning and even started working its special magic as early as mid-day Saturday. That was just one of the key indicators for me that it was time to move on.
Even today, as I look forward to a job I like and people I like to work with, I feel a bit of Sunday night anxiety. It may have something to do with not seeing Tinkerbell fly over Cinderalla’s castle, but I suppose it could be a bit work-induced. That’s why we have some unspoken rules at the Petersen house for Sunday nights.
First, there are no out-of-the-house social activities Sunday night. It dates back to when my work stress made me completely unruly on Sunday nights and my wife kept me at home for the protection of others. To this day, if we get a party invitation for Sunday night, we nearly always turn it down (which is saying something, considering how seldom we’re invited to parties!).
Second, we go to bed early. Although, depending on how tense I am, crawling into bed early can be kind of a pointless exercise. I can lay awake worrying about work while I am in bed just as easily as I can watching the Sunday night movie of the week.
Third, I read. Now I wish I could tell you I read the Bible, but that’s usually not the case. (OK, never the case.) Usually it’s something completely pointless. In another sterling example of personal paradox, if I am particularly worried about the workweek, I will often read work stuff. In my simple mind, I assume that by getting some work done Sunday night, I’ll be ready to hit the ground running Monday, and, thus, be able to relax Sunday night. But, of course, attacking work Sunday night only forces me to spend more time thinking about work. Nothing guarantees a good anxiety attack on a Sunday night like reading work stuff. If you really want to work yourself into a lather, go ahead and check your voice mail and your work e-mail, too, while you’re at it.
I know that I should do something much more profound Sunday nights, like cloister myself in my prayer room and map out my goals and objectives for the week while I pray through the week’s activities. I actually did that for about two weeks. It gave me a sense of comfort and purpose, but, like many of my great personal holiness initiatives, it quietly ended before I could make it a habit. (Yet another reason I claim each and every one of Christ’s promises of grace.)
So now I’m sitting here, Sunday night, trying to write while I watch Amercia’s Funniest Videos with the family, phone off the hook and open Bible on the desk in front of me. (Or, more accurately, on a shelf in the next room. But I could go get it if I really wanted to.)
What are your Sunday night rituals?
posted by Tom Petersen at 9:00 PM
4 comments
