Sunday is not a day off anymore.

I've been writing this column almost every Sunday morning for close to thirteen years. But it's not really work. I don't get paid for it, and it keeps my writing interesting, if nothing else. My band practices most Sundays, too. But when you think about it, these things are hobbies. Not work.

Last fall I had to work on a few Sundays, mostly driving somewhere to work on Monday. But still, I was with work people, and if there was a clock, I was on it.

This morning, at a little after eight, the cable guy came by to try and figure out why my Internets haven't been working the way they are supposed to be. The way I pay for them to work. A few weeks back, a couple of guys came by and switched out one thing for another. The Internets went down a half hour later. And then came back up, and then went down again.

In other words, they didn't finish their job.

This guy, working on an early Sunday morning, found another problem those first two guys didn't find. The Internets have been working ever since.

About a half hour after the cable guy left, I got a call on my personal phone. It was a restricted number, so this weird ring I never hear came from my phone. I answered and a guy launched quickly into a non-breathing spew that ended in him accusing me of not paying my phone bill and did I want to take care of this right now.

There were a few red flags to this phone call. One, it was supposedly from a representative of my phone company (who never calls, but they do send texts every once in a while), but it was from a restricted number (meaning I couldn't report whoever this was that was calling me). Two, he called my phone company "Allstells." After threatening to shut off my service and repeatedly asking if I wanted to take care of this "right now," I asked him, "What is my name?"

He hung up.

Now this guy, who is an asshole for trying to scam people for their credit card numbers, is working on Sunday mornings. Lots of retailer people have to work on Sundays, so this Sunday working thing isn't so unusual. Our society is kind of 24/7. You can find most anything at any time of the day. The difference being alcohol. You can't buy that 24/7. But it doesn't take much planning to have access to that. Of course, if you live in New Mexico, you'd have to wait at least an hour and forty-five minutes from the time I'm writing this to buy.

I'd say if you can't wait until noon on Sundays to buy, you're working way too hard on a Sunday to get drunk.

It's interesting that the guys who were working on a Thursday afternoon (two of them, even) couldn't fix the problem. But the guy who had to get up early on a Sunday to come by my place seems to have done a better job.

Over my work life, I haven't had to work Sundays much. Maybe that's why I'm surprised that so many people do. I'm not religious. I haven't been a regular church goer for decades. But, even the year I worked a few different retail jobs, I rarely had to do Sundays. I could probably count those Sundays on one hand. Maybe I just look like someone who shouldn't be working on Sundays.

So here's to those people who have to drag themselves into work after a late Saturday night. Maybe it doesn't seem like a Sunday when you get weekdays off.

Matt Worley and his band are playing a Sunday night gig in a couple of weeks.