Five Questions to Ask Yourself Every Sunday Night
Sunday nights have a reputation. That low hum of dread as the weekend fades and Monday looms. The vague sense that you should be "preparing" for the week but not knowing what that actually means. So you scroll your phone, half-watch something, and go to bed feeling unsettled.
What if you spent ten minutes on five questions instead? Not to plan your schedule or write a to-do list. Just to check in. To close the week behind you and face the one ahead with a little more clarity.
I've been doing this for about a year now, and it's become one of the most useful things I do all week. Here are the five questions, and why I think each one earns its spot.
1. What Drained Me This Week?
Not "what went wrong." Not "what was bad." What drained you. There's a difference.
Some things that go perfectly fine still leave you depleted. A long meeting that accomplished its goals but took every ounce of your social energy. A favor you did for a friend that was the right thing to do but left you with no time for yourself. A project that went well but required a kind of focus that exhausted you.
Naming what drained you isn't complaining. It's reconnaissance. When you notice the same kinds of activities draining you week after week, you start to see your limits more clearly. And knowing your limits isn't weakness. It's the foundation of actually managing your energy.
Write down two or three things that come to mind. Be specific. "The two-hour brainstorm session on Wednesday" is more useful than "meetings." Specificity gives you something to work with.
What to do with the answer: Look for patterns over a few weeks. If the same type of activity keeps showing up, consider whether you can reduce it, delegate it, or at least schedule recovery time after it.
2. When Did I Feel Most Like Myself?
This is my favorite question on the list because it bypasses the usual "what went well" framing and points at something deeper.
"What went well" often leads to external achievements. Got a compliment from my boss. Finished a project on time. Hit the gym four times. Those things are fine, but they don't always connect to how you actually felt.
"When did I feel most like myself" asks something different. It asks about alignment. It might be a moment where you were laughing with a friend, completely unguarded. Or a Saturday morning where you read a book for an hour with no agenda. Or a work conversation where you said exactly what you thought instead of filtering.
These moments tell you who you are when you're not performing. And the more of them you can identify, the more deliberately you can create conditions for them.
What to do with the answer: Notice where these moments happen. Who are you with? What are you doing? What's not happening (no pressure, no audience, no deadline)? Build more of those conditions into next week.
3. What Am I Avoiding?
This question is uncomfortable, which is exactly why it works.
We all have things we're avoiding. The email we haven't replied to. The conversation we need to have. The decision we keep postponing. The appointment we should schedule. These things sit in the background of our minds, taking up mental space and generating a low-grade anxiety that colors everything else.
Most of the time, the thing you're avoiding is smaller than it feels. The email takes five minutes to write. The conversation is awkward for ten minutes and then it's done. But avoidance inflates things. The longer you put something off, the bigger and scarier it becomes.
Sunday night is a good time to name these things because you can decide to tackle one of them on Monday. Just one. The smallest, easiest one. Getting it done creates momentum, and that momentum often carries into the next avoided thing.
What to do with the answer: Pick the smallest item. Put it on Monday's calendar. Do it first thing if you can. The relief of crossing an avoided task off your list is disproportionate to the effort involved.
4. What Do I Need This Week That I Didn't Get Last Week?
This question sounds simple, but it requires a kind of honesty that most people aren't used to practicing.
Maybe you need more time alone. Maybe you need more connection. Maybe you need to move your body more. Maybe you need to say no to something. Maybe you need a single evening with nothing planned.
We're not great at identifying our own needs in real time. We power through. We accommodate. We tell ourselves we're fine. Then we wonder why we feel resentful, exhausted, or disconnected.
Asking this question every Sunday creates a habit of noticing. Not just what you did, but what was missing. And once you can name what's missing, you can do something about it.
What to do with the answer: Pick one specific thing and figure out where it fits in the coming week. "I need time alone" becomes "I'm blocking off Wednesday evening for myself." Vague needs stay unmet. Specific plans get executed.
5. What Would Make This Coming Week Feel Good?
Not productive. Not successful. Not optimized. Good.
This question is intentionally subjective. What "good" means to you is personal and it probably changes week to week. Some weeks, good means getting through a stressful period. Some weeks, good means having one afternoon to do absolutely nothing. Some weeks, good means finally having that conversation you've been putting off.
The point isn't to set performance goals. It's to articulate a feeling you want to move toward. When you name what a good week looks like, you create a reference point for decision-making. When opportunities or obligations come up, you can ask: does this move me toward or away from the week I want?
You're not planning your schedule here. You're setting an intention, which is a much lighter and more forgiving thing.
What to do with the answer: Write it down somewhere you'll see it Monday morning. A sticky note. Your phone wallpaper. The top of your planner. Let it be a gentle compass, not a rigid target.
Making It a Ritual
These five questions work best when you give them a consistent time and place. For me, it's Sunday around 8pm, sitting on the couch with a cup of tea. Takes about ten minutes. Sometimes fifteen if I'm really thinking through question three.
You don't need to write long answers. A few sentences per question is plenty. Bullet points work fine. The value isn't in the writing. It's in the noticing.
If you use Daylogue, the Sunday check-in is a natural place for this. You can use your normal check-in flow and add these questions to your notes. Over time, you build a record of weekly reflections that shows you patterns across months, not just days.
But you don't need an app for this. A notebook works. A note on your phone works. The back of a receipt works. The format doesn't matter. The practice does.
What Changes After a Month
People who try this often tell me the same thing: the first two Sundays feel awkward and forced. By the fourth Sunday, it feels like a natural part of the weekend. And by the eighth Sunday, Monday mornings feel noticeably different.
Not perfect. Not stress-free. Just clearer. You walk into the week knowing what drained you, what filled you up, what you're avoiding, what you need, and what you're aiming for. That's more self-awareness than most people bring to a Monday, and it only cost ten minutes on a Sunday night.
Try it tonight. Worst case, you lose ten minutes of scrolling time. Best case, your Mondays start to feel like something you can actually face.
Daylogue's weekly check-in makes Sunday reflections easy to capture and track over time. Your days have a story. Sunday night is a good time to read the latest chapter.