Looking through some old photos, I came across this:**
Millions long for immortality who do not know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
Next, Thomas de Quincey:
It was a Sunday afternoon, wet and cheerless; and a duller spectacle this earth of ours has not to show than a rainy Sunday in London.
And finally, from Life the Universe and Everything, Douglas Adams on Wowbagger The Infinitely Prolonged:
In the end, it was Sunday afternoons he couldn’t cope with, and that terrible listlessness that starts to set in at about 2:55 when you know you’ve taken all the baths you can usefully take that day, that however hard you stare at any given paragraph in the newspaper you will never actually read it, or use the revolutionary new pruning technique it describes, and that as you stare at the clock the hands will move relentlessly on to four o’clock, and you will enter the Long Dark Teatime of the Soul.
Of course none of them had the internet to browse and a blog to update.
** The sculpture is in Gloucester Cathedral.
don't confuse the narrator 
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