THE SUNDAY ISSUE

by Dallas Shaw A long, long time ago, in a faraway land called Scranton, Pennsylvania, I vowed to never be that obnoxious adult who said the phrase TGIF. I designed and redesigned my career from early on so there would be no cases of the Mondays. And, I don’t ever say TGIF, thank you very much. But, I do always look forward to my Sundays. How I Sunday (or How I Saturday/Sunday if I’m being honest) changes a bit each weekend and, if still being honest, my weekends aren’t perfect. I still have an anxiety attack at some point (usually...

by Katie Geddes Full disclosure - when I started to write this, I was nervous.  Really nervous. Major writer’s block and I had no idea what to say.  It startled me because that’s not a common problem for me. “What the hell?” was the repeated sentiment in my head.  Then it dawned on me - I was afraid to put into words what a Sunday is like for me, essentially immortalizing it, because...my Sundays aren’t...that...cool.  Sigh. Yup, I’m admitting it wholeheartedly. I’m the uncool girl; instead of having a laundry list of fun things to do like brunch, yoga or...

by Natalie Decleve Sunday scaries? Not an issue over here. But it was not always that way… You’ve heard it before “don’t let your Monday ruin your Sunday.” Unfortunately, if your job is a drag the dread of Monday can leach into your otherwise delightful, GF-waffles-and-oat-milk-cappuccino-in-a-window-seat-Sunday-brunch Moment. For me, the solution was leaving my toxic work environment in fashion PR to launch my own tandem career as a personal stylist and writer about 10 years ago. I didn’t actually know this would become my career when I left my job, I just knew that I would never find out unless...

by Katie Richey "Sunnnday," I say it luxuriously in my head. Growing up, Sundays were sacred. Not because of church, really, but because of family. It was a day where everything was special, where the "treat yo self" manta reigned supreme and you never had to leave the couch unless you really wanted to. When I was in college, I went through a bad breakup and started the tradition of driving to my Mom's house on Sundays. My first stop was always the fridge, not necessarily to eat anything, but just to admire the bounty of leftovers and takeout from...