I used to think a good Sunday meant being productive. Meal prep done, inbox zero, workout logged. I was exhausted by noon and resentful by dinner.
Then I stopped. Not because I read a book about it — because I was tired of arriving at Monday already depleted.
What I do now takes about ninety minutes and costs nothing. It starts with not looking at my phone until I've had coffee. Real coffee, made slowly, in a cup I actually love. Not the travel mug. The good one.
From there: a bath or a long shower with something that smells expensive. A face routine I do without rushing. Music that has no agenda. And then — this is the part people skip — I sit. Just sit. With the coffee, with the quiet, with whatever comes up.
That's it. That's the reset. It's not a protocol. It's a declaration that you matter before the week begins.
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