I’m glad it’s Sunday again. I can stay in bed   36 I like, drinking tea and   37   those thick newspapers that are brought  38  the newsboy through the letterbox at 8:30. In this way, I can catch up with all the   39  I haven’t got time to read during my work time.

When I   40  the papers, I then prepare my bath. The Sunday morning bath is   41  of the week. There’s no need to hurry because there’s no bus to   42  and my friends are told not to call me up before noon on Sundays, so there is no danger of   43    by the telephone.

  44 spend the afternoon after lunch is always a bit of problem. In summer I can go to the park and sit in a chair   45  boys playing football, while in winter I sit in front of the fire and   46   when reading a book, sometimes I turn on the television and sleep through an old film.  

Then there’s the   47 ahead of me. Perhaps I’ll call on some friends or go to the cinema   48   a new film I want to see or to town for a concert. Oh, there are   49   pleasant ways of passing Sunday evenings. The only sad thing is that Monday morning is getting    50 .