Sunday Morning

I took a hiatus from this blog for about a year, while I left my job, planned a wedding, moved to Israel, got married, and started working. And then I changed my mind:

Okay, I’ve decided that I do actually need an outlet to express my *exciting* new life in Israel. I started writing this blog with some dreamy kind of ideology, and now, after all the bureaucracy of making Aliyah, enduring one of the worst wars of recent history, and starting to adjust to a new normal, I’m going to continue this blog with some snippets of my life here. Probably most of them will be categorized as #whitegirlproblems or things only Jewish American Princesses will find readable, but I’m going for it because why not.

So, here’s numero uno:

You know that feeling on Sunday morning, when you wakeup around 10AM and your Sig-O/roommate just made a fresh pot of coffee, and the sun is shining in through the windows, and there’s birds chirping in the distance, and you have brunch plans at noon, and you get to pick out your favorite spring/summer/wintery/fall outfit, and then you have the rest of the day to decide which shows you want to watch/which books you want to read/which yoga class you want to go to?

I LOVE that feeling.

Sunday morning in Israel = Monday morning in America. Yes, we get Friday off instead, and yes, you can sleep late on Friday, but here’s what Friday turns out to be:

On Friday morning I wake up around 10AM, drink my instant coffee, rush to the supermarket to steer my grocery card around the overcrowded aisles, and stand in line for at least 40 minutes behind old women preparing for the apocalypse (or, Shabbat, I guess). THEN, I unpack grocery bags, clean the kitchen, enlist my doting husband to clean the bathrooms, and get started on cooking Shabbat dinner. Not quite relaxing brunch and TV watching, let alone yoga classes.

Weekends really start Thursday night, but Thursday is a full work day! (!!!) There’s no such thing as summer Thursday –  and though Friday is less than relaxing, Saturday is generally nice. Unless, of course, you keep Shabbat, in which case you’re basically fucked.

Then, what?? You’re supposed to wake up Sunday morning and NOT lay in bed for an hour? It is terrible. Yes, I am lucky to have a job, and yes, I’ve only endured one of these Sundays so far, but stiillllllll. America, don’t take your Sunday mornings for granted.

Brunch in America



One thought on “Sunday Morning

  1. Pingback: 10 Things I Miss About America | Not Yet Israeli

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