If you are a single/broke/atheist/procrastinator in New York, Sundays can be a bit of a curmudgeon. You see, the committed have boyfriends, the rich do brunch, the faithful go to church, and the studious have homework and libraries to fill the day. I, being none of the aformentioned, bestow upon myself a faux-fur bed, a playlist full of music that no one else likes, Trader Joe's cookie dough and an empty apartment. Sometimes it's really great to be single, without friends or money. Those 'sometimes' are never any day except Sunday.
