I'm trying not to have a bad attitude about Sundays. I know I shouldn't, they're lovely and lazy and open. But they also signal the end of the weekend, and the start of the work week. Today I spent the day baking artisan bread, which I smothered in my coworker's phenomenal black raspberry jam that she makes with raspberries hand-harvested in Olivia, Minnesota. She gives it as a gift each year and it is the highlight of my holiday. I also prepared ginger cookies and turkey taco meat for the week, had lunch with a friend at Namaste in Uptown, and finished off the night with a Stella Artois and friends at T-Bone Bingo at Grumpy's Northeast. I also fit in time to watch Sydney Lumet's film Before the Devil Knows You're Dead. So, really, what do I have to complain about regarding Sundays? I'm going to try to have a turnaround in the new year on my bad Sunday attitude. Sunday, you are my new best friend.