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The love of McDonalds

It is sunday, my day of torment. Sunday's hang around my neck like a stone, every minute a challenge. The prospect of sunday on the horizon during the rest of the week can blight every day. Live in the present? A good idea, I just might learn how to do it one day. Something had to change and today it has, walking into town at about 2pm and having a coffee in McDonald's before another walk home (about half an hour, not a particularly nice walk, but pleasant enough) So now sundays can join every other day as a McDonald's day.

I have to leave my partner/wife/significant other/loved one behind. She is virtually house-bound as she waits for a hip replacement, in constant chronic pain, but very stoic. I love her and she loves me and makes no protest at all as I leave her to her puzzles, kindle and cat-naps.

So I suppose if others want to put down McDonalds, jeer at the burgers, fair enough. I love the place.
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hunkalove · 70-79, M
I haven't eaten at McDonalds since 1972 when owner Ray Kroc gave $250,000 to Nixon's reelection campaign.