One of the most dreaded things about being an adult is dealing with the “Sunday Scaries,” you know, that creeping sense of dread that shows up at the end of the weekend, when Monday looms. Even if you love your job, the to-do lists waiting for you on Monday can feel daunting. For someone with anxiety, that feeling only intensifies.
It used to creep in every Sunday afternoon, that pit-in-my-stomach, throat-closing-up feeling. It wouldn’t matter what I was doing. I could be relishing a day at the beach with friends or embarking on a solitary long run along a picturesque trail. It didn’t matter. All I could think about was work.
It was all-consuming. Instead of enjoying the rest of my weekend, I could only think about work. I obsessed over and worried about the unread emails in my inbox, the open-ended projects (labeled in red in a project management tool), and the hundreds of sticky notes I had piled on my des I had such a hard time shutting my work brain off!
The anxiety and worry about my impossibly long to-do list crushed me. I couldn’t stop contemplating the emails I needed to send. Looking back, it’s almost funny how sad it was. I could have been doing ANYTHING, literally, yet I found myself preoccupied with the impending Monday dread associated with work and my responsibilities.
At one point, my Sunday Scaries were so severe that I started calling out of work on Mondays. It became a pattern, and it cost me multiple jobs; it just wasn’t sustainable. The anxiety got physical: throwing up, fevers, and complete exhaustion. It was too much.
Thankfully, after a lot of hard work in therapy, I found a way to ease into the week instead of getting blindsided by it.
Why did I do this? Why did I let these thoughts about my day job consume me?
What strikes me now is how out of control those thoughts got. Monday had not yet arrived, but I had already given up part of my Sunday to prepare for it. Part of my brain was already sitting at that desk, staring at those sticky notes, counting down the hours before I’d even clocked in.
That was the real frustration. I wasn’t at work, but work was still with me anyway.
For years, I lived like a workaholic. Sunday was always the worst day of the week because my work anxiety consumed me to the point I couldn’t enjoy the last free day I had to myself before going back to work the next week. I knew I wasn’t alone in my plight. I know people dread Mondays. Heck, that’s why The Bangles sang about “Manic Monday.”
I don’t think I’ve ever considered the Sunday Scaries normal, though. There was something about that pit in my stomach that felt bigger than just disliking work.
How could I have been sitting on the beach on a beautiful Sunday afternoon and still felt as though I were in a different location? Why can 20 unread emails exert such influence over me when I am not even expected to be working?
The strange thing is, I don’t hate my job. I’m not waking up every morning counting down the hours until I can quit. I have flexibility. I work from home. There are plenty of things about my job that I’m grateful for.
So why does Sunday sometimes feel like a countdown to something I’m dreading?
Maybe that’s what makes the Sunday Scaries so frustrating. There isn’t always one obvious thing to blame.
At times, exhaustion is simply unavoidable. Sometimes you’re overwhelmed. Occasionally there’s a project you’re avoiding or a difficult conversation waiting for you. And at times, you may find it difficult to identify the source of your feelings.
You just know that it’s Sunday.
And Monday is coming.
Somewhere along the way, Sunday stopped feeling like a day off and started feeling like a countdown.
Instead of letting myself enjoy the day, I start thinking about everything waiting for me when the weekend ends. I contemplate my calendar. I contemplate the unfinished projects. The emails I haven’t answered. The sticky notes on my desk that I told myself I’d deal with on Monday.
And then there are all the little things I convince myself I need to do before Monday arrives.
Laundry. Meal prep. Cleaning. Grocery shopping. I am preparing myself for the week ahead by getting my life “together.”
Even relaxing can start to feel like something I have to earn.
If I spend Sunday morning watching TV, I think about what I should be doing. If I go for a run, part of me is already contemplating what comes next. If I spend the afternoon at the beach, I can still find a way to let Monday creep into my thoughts.
It’s almost like I’m trying to squeeze everything I possibly can out of Sunday while simultaneously preparing myself to give it up.
And that’s exhausting.
That’s what bothers me most about the Sunday Scaries. It’s not just that I don’t want Monday to come. It’s that I don’t fully allow myself to enjoy the time before it does.
I’m physically at the beach, but mentally I’m at my desk.
I’m supposed to be resting, but I’m making mental to-do lists and seeing my overdue or incomplete tasks, in dark read, visually, like I am sitting in front on my computer when I’m not.
I am meant to be enjoying my weekend, yet I discover myself already concerned about my ability to manage the upcoming week.
And suddenly, Sunday isn’t really Sunday anymore.
It’s preparation for Monday.
The Problem Isn’t Always Monday
The more I think about my Sunday Scaries, the more I realize that Monday might not actually be the problem.
I don’t hate Mondays. I don’t wake up every Monday morning wishing I could turn around and crawl back into bed. And, honestly, some Mondays are perfectly fine.
So why does Sunday feel so heavy?
It’s the anticipation.
There’s something about knowing that my weekend is ending that makes me start mentally preparing for everything that’s coming next. Before anything has actually gone wrong, I’m already worrying about what could go wrong.
I’m thinking about the email I will get. The project might take longer than I expect it to. I might have a conversation. The things I didn’t finish last week and the things I need to accomplish this week.
None of those things are happening right now.
But my brain doesn’t seem particularly interested in that fact.
And maybe that’s the real problem. I’m letting something that hasn’t happened yet steal time from something that is happening right now.
That Sunday afternoon at the beach is real. The sun is real. The water is real. The people around me are real.
Monday is not.
At least not yet.
I can’t control what Monday will bring. I can’t control how many emails will be waiting for me or whether every project will go smoothly. But I can control how much of Sunday I hand over to Monday before it even arrives.
How to Turn It Around
I wanted to be able to relax on Sundays without spiraling into anxiety about the week ahead. I did not wish for one day of the week to exert such significant influence over me.
For a while, I couldn’t even enjoy Friday or Saturday. Instead of being present, I was obsessively anticipating Monday, convinced that the upcoming week would be the one that finally broke me.
What usually happened next was predictable: panic attacks, paralysis by analysis, and hours spent worrying about everything I needed to do without actually doing any of it. I wouldn’t make plans. I wouldn’t relax. I’d just think about all the things I should be doing.
Then suddenly, it was Sunday.
And somehow, I was supposed to cram groceries, cleaning, meal planning, errands, and preparing for the week into one day that I already dreaded.
Eventually, I realized the problem wasn’t necessarily Sunday. It was that I had turned Sunday into the day when everything I had avoided all weekend came due.
So I changed my approach.
Instead of treating Sunday like a deadline, I started spreading the planning, chores, and preparation throughout the weekend. More importantly, I started making sure my weekends were spent solely on enjoyable things.
It sounds simple. It was also a transformative experience.
1. Plan the Fun First
Before anything else gets scheduled, I protect the fun. Starting Friday, sometimes even the week before, I make sure each day, Friday through Sunday, has at least one thing I’m genuinely looking forward to. I try to get outside daily rather than losing the weekend to a screen, though there’s always room left for a show or a movie. Every day includes some form of movement, too: a run, a walk, a bike ride, or yoga.
My long run always falls on Sunday, and it’s become the thing I look forward to most. It sounds almost too simple, but having that single run to look forward to transformed Sunday from my least favorite, and most dreaded day into one I actually love.
2. Plan the Meals
Few things sabotage a week faster than finishing work and realizing there’s nothing for dinner. I don’t meal-prep, but I do meal plan, I map out breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the week, then work backward to a grocery and snack list.
Left unchecked, I default to takeout and DoorDash. Seeing the week laid out in a calendar keeps me honest and on budget. I set aside one day, Friday or Saturday, to plan and order groceries for pickup. It’s a small trade, a bit of upfront thinking, for a week free of overspending, extra store runs, and 6 p.m. dinner panic.
3. Keep Weekend Mornings Slow
I’m not up at dawn, but I’m up early enough to make the day count. My weekend days, I make breakfast, and while it’s finishing, I open my laptop and start sketching the week ahead: meals, the calendar, and the works.
This isn’t about surrendering the whole day to planning or deep-cleaning the entire house. I’ve lived that version, and it’s exactly what made me dread Sundays in the first place. Now most of my “reset” happens Friday or early Saturday, which frees the rest of the weekend for something to look forward to, that Sunday run, instead of a mental to-do list to dread.
4. Clean in Small, Spread-Out Chunks
Sundays are for clean sheets. That particular reset gives the week a genuine sense of renewal. But I keep the cleaning itself under two hours: laundry, wiping counters, vacuuming, the basics. I might even start this on Friday or Saturday.. The goal isn’t to lose a day to doing chores, it’s to get things for the week ahead, especially if you’re already keeping up with your space day-to-day.
5. Plan the Week’s Schedule
I carve out thirty minutes to an hour on Sundays specifically to plan my week ahead: reviewing my calendar, filling in anything I missed: appointments, deadlines, errands, social plans, and workouts. I treat this time as self-care, not just productivity. Knowing what’s coming lets me mentally prepare instead of getting blindsided, which cuts down on last-minute stress before it starts.
To stay consistent, I keep a recurring Sunday reminder in Google Calendar that simply says, “Plan for the week.” A small nudge from my past self, keeping my present self on track.
6. Plan Something to Anticipate
Every Sunday, before the week even begins, I make sure there’s something enjoyable waiting for me in it—a yoga class, a new movie, dinner with friends. I often watch movies on weeknights when they’re cheaper, and having that one thing already scheduled prevents the entire week from feeling like a slog.
None of these changes eliminated the work of a normal life; groceries still need buying, sheets still need washing, and weeks still need planning. Spread across three days instead of crammed into one, it stopped feeling like a countdown to dread and started feeling like ordinary maintenance, with a run, a movie, and clean sheets built right in.
I no longer dedicate the entire weekend to preparing for Monday.
And maybe that’s the real goal, not learning how to love Mondays, but learning how to protect the rest of your life from them.
Lately, I’m working on not learning to love Mondays, but learning to leave Monday alone until Monday gets here.
The actual Sunday afternoon at the beach exists. The sun exists. The water exists. The people near me are real.
I can’t control what Monday will bring. I can’t control how many emails will be waiting for me or whether every project will go smoothly. But I can control how much of my Sunday I hand over to Monday before it even arrives.
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