Sunday evenings

The holidays are over, and like every Sunday evenings, I am stressed out. Fear claws at my guts. My heart skips a bit every time I think about tomorrow.
I can't remember a time when sunday evenings did not scare me. I prepared my classes, corrected most  of the copies that were on my desk.
And yet, my hands shake and I sit restless.

I wonder where it comes from. The terror.