Sunday Night Blues

I have been reckless all weekend,
My bones so deeply ache,
My mind is yawning internally,
I'm ready for a break.
My head hits the welcoming pillow,
The breeze from the window cool,
My mind that was so recently tired,
Has drifted to thoughts of school.
I hate the way that this happens,
I'm weary for goodness sake!
But inevitably on Sunday nights,
'Til the early morning I'm awake.
I think of the fun we've had,
Playing on the beach,
Showing my girls how to swim,
And then I think of "teach".
And how the teachers at our school,
Have to do certain tasks,
I'm back again thinking of school,
And all the problems that it asks.
I try to read a book for a while,
That should make me weary,
But my mind drifts back to school,
Until my eyes are bleary.
I then lean over and turn off the light,
And sigh into my bed,
And think of things I have to do,
And school's back into my head.
At some point though I'll drop off,
But go to work so tired,
And not get done the things I wanted to,
Before the day's expired.
I spend so much time contemplating,
The week that's before me,
That I'm then too tired to get it done,
I guess that's called irony.

Unfortunately all too real. Sunday nights are the pits. No matter how tired I get I can't sleep because I'm mulling over stuff that needs to be done. No point getting upset about it - I'm a sleepy slob the rest of the time.