A 4-minute read

It always hits around 4 PM on Sunday. That familiar knot in your stomach, right between your second cup of coffee and the realization that tomorrow is Monday—that special brand of anxiety that turns perfectly good Netflix binges into guilt-ridden productivity spirals.

Remember when Sundays meant binge-watching and zero responsibilities? Now they’re this strange twilight zone where you’re simultaneously trying to squeeze the last drops of weekend freedom while mentally preparing for the week ahead.

The Sunday Timeline

4:00 PM: Denial “It’s still the weekend! I have plenty of time.” Continues scrolling through social media while ignoring Canvas notifications and work emails piling up

5:00 PM: Bargaining “If I go to bed right now and wake up at 5 AM, I can get everything done…” (Spoiler: No one has ever actually woken up at 5 AM after making this promise)

6:00 PM: Panic For students: “Why are there three different rubrics on Canvas? WHAT EVEN IS A RUBRIC AT THIS POINT?” Frantically messages classmates who are all, suspiciously, “just starting too”

For professionals: “Did I respond to that email on Friday? What’s my first meeting tomorrow? Where is my work laptop?” Frantically checks calendar while contemplating a career change

7:00 PM: Acceptance… Sort of “Okay, let’s at least meal prep… or order takeout and call it self-care.” Opens food delivery app for the third time today

The Great To-Do List Delusion

Ah, the Sunday to-do list—that masterpiece of optimism where we convince ourselves time works differently after 4 PM. Maybe it’s the third cup of coffee talking, but suddenly everything seems possible: catching up on 200 pages of reading (or those 100 unread emails), meal prepping like those TikTok influencers who have their lives together, finally organizing that desk that’s been a “work in progress” since January, and hey, why not throw in learning a new language while we’re at it?

Reality check: The only thing getting thoroughly prepped is our collection of creative excuses—”my WiFi crashed” (while Netflix streams perfectly), “traffic was terrible” (while working from home), and the classic “I’ll get to it first thing Monday”

Making it worse? Everyone else’s Sunday seems picture-perfect on Instagram. They’re meal prepping in matching containers, doing yoga, and apparently living in homes that look like minimalist catalogs. Meanwhile, I’m trying to decide if my wrinkled shirt can be fixed with the shower steam method because I still haven’t bought an iron.

The Monday Morning Anxiety

The real anxiety comes from knowing about that 9 AM meeting where you need to look like you’ve had your life together all weekend. Whether it’s presenting your assignment that got finished at 3 AM or leading that client call you’re still prepping for, everyone’s expected to share their weekend highlights. Do you mention your six-hour TikTok binge or make up something about “catching up on reading”?

So what then…

Somehow, through a mixture of caffeine, panic, and what can only be described as academic adrenaline, you submit the assignment. It’s not your best work, but it’s done. As you finally crawl into bed, you make a solemn vow to never procrastinate again.

(Spoiler alert: Next Sunday, you’ll be back here, making the same promise.)

Maybe the solution isn’t fighting the Sunday Scaries but accepting them as part of our weird transition into adulthood. Like how we’ve accepted that dinner can sometimes be cereal, or that “business casual” means different things to different people.

Perhaps Sundays are teaching us something about balance—about the art of existing between the person who crushed it at Friday’s presentation and the one who spent Saturday watching an entire season of a show in one sitting.

So here’s to Sunday nights. To the anxiety that reminds us we care about our responsibilities. To the planning that never quite goes as planned. To the alarm we’ll definitely snooze tomorrow morning.

P.S. To everyone procrastinating right now: yes, this is your sign to start that thing you’re avoiding. But we both know you’ll finish reading this first.