Sunday Night Syndrome - heard of it?

There is a serious affliction on the loose - the Sunday Night syndrome. It causes seriously sleep deprived Monday mornings, leading to a general feeling of malaise and moroseness on an already dull and moribund day of the week - the dreaded Monday.

We are all aware of the happier days of the week - namely Friday and Saturday. These are days when most of us work averse beings - also known as "workers" (wonder why!) are not enduring daytime incarceration in exchange for a few pennies. On one of these days, we are dreaming of real life and on the other, we are actually living it.

But eventually Sunday arrives, and brings with it the doom and gloom of a Monday in it's tow. Up until Saturday night, we had been pretending that Monday is like one of those closet monsters that scares children, but in fact doesnt exist. On Sunday, however, we are forced to reckon with its impossible to ignore imminence and by evening of the day we are resigned to our fates and climb into our beds early to get some rest, to put up our bravest (not necessarily best) faces before the coming onslaught.

But then the cosmic chaos of a Sunday night takes over and all kinds of odd things begin to happen making sleep nothing short of a distant dream (no pun intended). The kids wake up one after the other - sometimes needing comfort from nightmares, other times, just announcing the happy absence of any nightmares .. at 1:12 AM. You receive international phone calls at 2:37 AM from complete strangers who insist on talking to you in foreign tongues, and refuse to realize after 3 calls that they might have the wrong number. After a couple of such assaults on your beauty sleep, the drip-drip of leaky faucets, whirring of the fan and ticking of the clock are enough to prevent a smooth reversion into dreamland. You lay awake counting sheep, counting backwards from 1 million, the hair remaining on your head - anything, but the Z's elude you. By 4 AM you are anxious that if you don't get any sleep, how in heaven or hell will you even drive to work, let alone display any productivity worth a few cents. The anxiety by the way adds to the overall fun. Sometime before dawn, as you teeter on the edge of sanity, slumber lets you back to paradise. But other sinister cosmic forces - time for one, have that covered as well - the alarm goes off, yanking you back to the Monday morning.
With bloodshot eyes, aching limbs, muddled mind and no sense of balance or direction, you amble off to the bathroom and begin fervently to pray for the day to be over.

This, my friends is what is being referred these days as the Sunday Night syndrome. But beware, it also occurs on last nights of vacations and long weekends. No known cures till date.