Sunday Strrrrrrrrrrrretch
(read: Why Mich Hardly Steps Out Of the House on Sundays or WMHSOOTHOS for short, which incidentally, isn't that short an abbreviation. Conversely, there's a nice onomatopoeic ring to that.)

1. Late, Late Saturday nights are the primary culprits. We're talking about 4am trips to Slumberland. Having to rise at 8am after barely 4 hours of blanket drill is certainly a struggling feat. At the stroke of 1pm on Sundays, all I want to do is sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep....which ironically, I don't even when I've reached home.
2. Sundays are days when families and kids in tow head out to the suburban malls for some quality time. (read: wailing babies, irritating whizzing kids, a nation of half-awakened slobs in their unironed tees and wrinkled bermudas pacifying the abovementioned wailing babies, old and young alike depleting the nation's food supply between 12 and 2 pm, the list goes on....) It's a nationwide conspiracy, I'm telling you.
   
3. Looming ahead is Monday. Mon -yawn- day. Sunday is thus perfect for meditating on the past week's events and the week ahead. (translation: denial that work beckons in 24 hours.)
4. Rewarding oneself is essential. Mental note to self: Surely a week's worth of labour deserves a day's rest? Being able to unwind and do absolutely nothing for a full day is gratifying when frenzied insanity fills the other six days of the week.
5. Do you really want a fifth reason? -beams-