A poet/teacher was quoted in the Sunday NYTimes "There's something very melancholy about Sunday evening, right? The week is starting; you feel a little agitated about what you have to do." When I first began working in Manhattan I was still living in Philadelphia and my commute included two trains plus a PATH tube and the reverse in the evening which meant rising at 0500 to face the day. Sunday afternoons were as the poet says - I called it "Sunday Night Syndrome." And the winters of 1976/1977 were particularly severe and the open train platforms were desolate. At North Philadelphia station in the evening we commuters would form a posse to advance en masse when the train's headlight appeared. Later in life I used to visit the port on Sunday afternoon to observe, touch and feel which gave me a leg up to hit the ground running on Monday morning. To each his own.
tjs
During my time at the Merchant Marine Academy I felt the same syndrome. Living way from Rio de Janeiro, I had just one week-end free per month to visit my folks and see my girlfriend. Sunday evening was always sad. I had to wake up at 2 am on Monday morning to take the bus and be back at the Academy before 6:30 am. Hard times but always good memories.
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